Could You Please Take That Baby...

Today in church, we had a crying baby. It was way down at the front and it wasn't just crying, it was screeching and playing and talking. It wasn't constant, but it went on long enough that I thought someone should go over and ask the person to take the baby to the creche. The creche is a sort of a nursery. There are facilities provided for your baby and you. Go there.

No one did. They are too polite here. It is so absolutely crazy what they will sit through to avoid offending someone. The kid finally fell asleep. The woman behind me took her baby out after she blew spit bubbles for five minutes. No screaming, no laughing, just an annoying fizzy sound. Now that's a mother I can get behind.

I grew up in a large church below the Mason-Dixon line. One Sunday there was a woman on the second row with a crying baby. It would not shut up. It was doing things that babies do. (What are people thinking when they bring a baby into a place like that? That it will sit quietly or sleep the whole time? Babies are unpredictable! They need places where they can be babies.) I'm totally not anti-baby. I'm anti-stupid parent. But I digress...

After a few minutes, the pastor stopped the sermon and looked at the woman. "Could you please take that baby to the nursery? Someone will show you where it is." The congregation sat stunned as the woman got up and walked out. I'm not sure if she went to the nursery or if she went home, but she left and I was glad. People almost applauded. It was the talk for the next week.

My mother, always a fan of that pastor, talked about it at lunch. "Good for him," she said. "I wish he'd have done it sooner."

Go, Ma, go.