Matt and I took Audrey to church yesterday, for the fourth or fifth time since she was born. It's right up the road from our house, which is a major bonus, especially when you have a baby to get ready, right? You never know when that diaper blowout is going to happen (it did) and you're going to have to change the whole outfit.
Anyway, we like this church for a lot of different reasons, but one thing that drew us in at the beginning was the privacy room they have at the back. It's sound-proof and perfect for a crying infant who needs to be fed during the service. You see, I'm not yet comfortable with putting Audrey in the nursery. I've seen too many episodes of Criminal Minds to be okay with that. Wouldn't it make perfect sense for a beginning child molester to get a job in a church nursery, one that's so small it probably doesn't require a background check? Yes, I realize that I think like a criminal, thankyouverymuch.
Yesterday, though, we decided to take her in the congregation, which actually turned out really well. Except for a brief period when she decided to laugh during the beginning of the preacher's sermon.
Matt got her to sleep, and she took a good 30-minute nap during the rest of it. Awesome. I was feeling good, proud of us for getting up and making it to church. I even dressed up a little, since we were going to celebrate FIL's birthday at a nice restaurant afterward.
So, I wore something very similar to this dress:
I would post a pic of the actual dress, but let's just say it's in no condition to be hanging up right now.
It looked good, if I do say so myself. I bought it last summer at the beach when I was pregnant, about three months along. It's funny to look back and think I was big then...what a joke when compared to 40 weeks.
I wore a chocolate-brown shrug to go along with it, since we were, after all, in church. Also, I'm not entirely comfortable in spaghetti straps with nothing else, and that turned out to be a good thing. A VERY good thing.
During the sermon, I noticed one of the spaghetti straps kept sliding off my shoulder (I took off the shrug because it was so dang hot here yesterday). Which reminds me, Matt and I saw a sign in front of a church the other day that said, "If you think it's hot here...", which totally cracked me up.
Anyway, I kept adjusting the strap, since we were not on the back row (next to last row), and there was a group of teenage boys behind us. The modest teacher in me, who always dressed to cover everything, drove me to it, I swear. I messed with the strap the whole service; it was really bothering me.
At the end of the sermon, we stood up to sing, and I put the shrug back on. THANK GOD. Because one of the spaghetti straps had broken, and my right boob was hanging out. Yes, I had on a strapless bra. Again, THANK GOD. It just kind of folded down and revealed my goodies. I thought, Oh my word. Here we are at a relatively new church, and I'm flashing the congregation.
The shrug is not big enough, obviously, to meet in the middle and cover me without holding it together with my hand. I looked at David and said, "We have to go home. Now."
He looked at me like, Are you nuts? Because we needed to leave directly from the service in order to get to brunch on time. His dad doesn't like us to be late (hi, FIL!).
I said, "I'm serious. NOW."
He immediately handed me the keys, and I took off to the parking lot and got in the car. David struggled out with the rest of our gear and Audrey, of course. We went home and I changed, and all was well.
But the motto of this story is, if you're going to wear a sundress with spaghetti straps, please, for the love of God, wear (or just take) a shrug or sweater along JUST IN CASE. You never know when a wardrobe malfunction is about to take place.
And you don't want that, especially in church.