Mama, being somewhat less than lucid these days, rarely gets out much anymore. She does enough of that in her head, and there's no need for her body to tag along. Nonetheless, someone talked Buck into taking her to church today, and he did. I don't know why. He's a saint, that man.
No one said it was revival. No one said the guest minister used to work under Mama's supervision in security at Data General. But anyone would have said the preacher would get all wound up and rant into overtime.
Then there, there in that overtime plea to surrender another soul to Jesus, my mama stood up and spoke: Would you sit down and shut up?! I want to GO HOME!
Thereupon, my mama, my mama who doesn't remember me much less the man in the pulpit who called her name, Miss Mildred, and pleaded for just a little more time, my mama this morning fulfilled the fantasy of me, my brother, and every other male child who ever endured a Free Will Baptist Sunday morning sermon.