Keep Your Dentures In Your Mouth
Going to church every Sunday was not something we discussed on Saturday night. It was understood, no questions asked. We were supposed to look our very best, wear our best clothes, and act like somebody! We weren’t to chew gum at church, and we absolutely weren’t supposed to laugh, unless it was appropriate.
One of the gentlemen in our church felt the call to the ministry. He was a sincere man, so Daddy let him have the pulpit one Sunday. I was in the choir, which had a perfect vantage point when it came to being able to see everything that was going on in the congregation, and behind the pulpit. My sister was sitting next to me…bad mistake!
The preacher got his ‘preach’ on. He was slapping his Bible against the podium, and walking from side to side across the stage. All of sudden, we caught sight of something flying across in front of us. It was his false teeth! Evidently he had not used his Polygrip that morning. He immediately covered his mouth and called on someone to pray. “Dear Father…” the prayer began as he hit the deck to retrieve his teeth.
My sister and I got so tickled that the movement of our shaking shoulders was vibrating the pew. There’s nothing worse than having to stifle giggles. Our faces turned red, and tears began to stream down our faces. We could not control the laughter. Every time we would dare to glance each others way, it would start all over again.
We weren’t successful at sinking our teeth into that sermon. However, we did catch Hell, once Daddy got us home.church, humor, Memories, Story comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.