Saturday, March 11, 2006

Looks good on you. And you. And you.

My sister was in Indy a couple of weekends ago to see a comedy show. She was supposed to be going with her husband and their friends, but her husband was in bed with a 102 degree fever so I had to stand in. [Note that the fever did not stop BIL from calling every half hour to check to see what stage we were in of our evening. Note that the fever did not stop BIL from making suggestions from his bed 60 miles away as to what restaurant we should eat in.] But my sis shows up to my apartment, and we find out we're wearing very similar green shirts. Since she and I look so much alike anyway, I debated changing so we weren't mistaken for twins the whole night. But I didn't.

After the show, I decided to drive her back to the Jesus Town so I could hang with the fam and go to church on Sunday. So I throw a couple of items in my overnight bag and we hop in the car.

Sunday morning (after entertaining my niece who had spent the night at my parents' house) I got ready for church and planned on arriving at the safe time of 3 minutes before the service starts. [Just in time as not to walk in during announcements, but not early enough that I have to speak to people who don't know I'm the daughter of the Church Administrator and who are zealously trying to convert me to the church.] I waltz in and head for our usual seating, only to notice that my sis, who is already in the row, is wearing the same color shirt. Not only the same color, she was wearing the same exact shirt. Which wouldn't have been so bad if the Dad didn't happen to be wearing the same color shirt as well. And I'm not talking blue, or black or a normal color. We were all wearing this burnt coral color.

After joking to the sis that she had to stop shopping at MY stores, I sat myself between them and prayed [we were in church] that no one noticed. It took all of 4 seconds for the people behind us to tap us on the shoulders, laughing, to point it out. And then I could hear them snorting and laughing for the next few minutes. It's funny how when you're in church, you forget that the people in front of you can hear everything you're saying. Luckily, these are church people who remember me and aren't trying to convert me, so I let them get by with it.

A few minutes into the service, the Mom has taken her place signing at the front. Which means she's facing into the crowd. I catch her eye for a minute, and she's holding back a chuckle as she signs to me "same shirt" and nods at us all.

And like the good sister I am, I demanded she go home and change before we went to lunch.