BAAAAA Humbug!

So I ventured into a Baptist church on Saturday night.

I know. IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!

You see, my mom belongs to a senior citizens choir called the Jesus Geezers or the Geriaptists or the Goldeneers or something, and they did their massive Christmas extravaganza this weekend. And say what you will about the Baptists, they put on one hell of a Christmas show!

Mom even got a solo when they did this little novelty number about fruitcake. She sang about using it as a doorstop or giving it to her kids as punishment when they're late for something. The crowd loved it. They ovated. Seriously.

But my favorite part was probably the Living Nativity they did during Act III. After two acts of jolly, happy (and surprisingly secular) Christmas carols, things got kind of serious. A spotlight fell on the Virgin Mary, who was kneeling before the angelic host. And the angel spoke to her with an accent oddly reminiscent of them Duke boys: "Feeyer not, Mayery, for thayou hast fayound faeevor with Gawd."

And so Mary and Joseph made their way to the elaborate manger set. And as the choir reverently sang "Silent Night," the wise men and the shepherds came to pay their respects. And to add an air of authenticity to the proceedings, the shepherds had real sheep with them.

I guess they didn't have the sheep with them during rehearsal. Either that, or the sheep were uncharacteristically spooked by the crowd. But the sheep began bleating. Loudly. And incessantly. The choir pressed on, troopers that they are.

Siiiiiiilent niiiiiiBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Despite the majesty and the pageantry, the crowd began snickering. Finally, the director (you could tell he was the director because he was wearing one of those Madonna headsets) came bolting up the aisle and had the shepherds take their sheep outside. The shepherds went out separate doors and the sheep, apparently afraid they would never see each other again, began BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAing desperately back and forth, totally drowning out the choir and the giggling audience. Finally, the shepherds got them out the doors, which slammed shut, and we listened to the muffled cries of the sheep as they were led through the foyer and out the front door.

(Just a quick coda to an already gripping narrative... When he was introducing the Living Nativity, the emcee invited everyone to "sit back, relax, and enjoy the Christmas story." At this point, my nine-year-old nephew Christopher mimicked holding a BB gun and whispered to me, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid."

I'm so proud. He really does take after his uncle...)