I love Christmas music. I like to start listening to it and singing it sometime near the end of August. (Sorry Lesleigh, you'd hate it at my house.) I also enjoy playing Christmas music on the piano. One of my favorite pieces to play is "Trinity Chimes." It's awesome because it really does sound like chimes, and it sounds especially amazing on the Steinway in our chapel. I've been playing this piece since probably 8th grade, and I was excited to have the opportunity to play it as part of our Christmas sacrament meeting program.
Fast forward to Christmas day, sacrament meeting. Phil and I were sitting on our "assigned bench" in the back of the chapel, near my parents and my older brother. After the sacrament, I headed up to the stand for the program, leaving my three sons in the care of their dad. This has never been a problem before. When it comes to wrestling kids in church, Phil is the master. He takes our two-year-old out into the foyer and helps him rock climb the stone walls. I would never do it, but hey--it keeps both dad and baby happy, and I get to listen to the speakers.
The program started and I, blissfully unaware, accompanied the choir for their first couple of numbers and stayed on the stand for the speaker. Then my turn came. I sat down and began the piece, feeling relaxed and confident. I moved through the beginning to the middle part of the song, which can be tricky to remember. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the top of a little blond head coming up the aisle of the chapel. I remember thinking, "Hmm. That couldn't possibly be T-- because Phil has him in the back." Not half a second later, I could hear little feet coming up the stairs and recognized the red sweater and my two-year-old's arm holding on to the wood paneling for balance. Next thing I knew, he was at the piano, trying to climb into my lap.
The first words through my mind were, "Oh sh--! Where's Phil?" Then, "What am I going to do if he messes me up like he does at home?" Thankfully, a member of our bishopric saw what was happening and came over to get my cherub, and I didn't miss a beat. My dear husband didn't notice a thing until he saw Brother H-- coming down the aisle with babe in arms. I was just glad I could finish my song without further interruption.
Phil was mortified. I thought it was hilarious, especially since I didn't mess up. And it makes for a good story to tell for years to come.