PDA #15: Samage control

No, that is not a typo. If you have 3-year-old tyrant named Samuel, you know exactly what I mean. (Good luck with that, by the way.)

Today was my fifth straight Sunday of playing music during sacrament meeting at church. One week the congregation was unusually hushed as the choir (for which I am accompanist) approached the end of its beautiful, spiritual offering. Right at the last line of music I heard my son cry. But this was no mere case of a mother singling out her child's voice in a crowd, oh, no. Everyone heard it. As the choir faded in volume, Samuel increased to full-blown screams. Embarrassed, I marched from the stand, brushed past Jeff in our pew, picked up Samuel and marched out of the chapel with my little banshee. The story is Samuel had hit his head on the bench in front and wouldn't let Jeff console him. I apologized to the choir director for ruining the effect she had tried so hard to create. "Oh, we all felt for you," she said.

Another week I was to do a piano solo. This time Samuel threw a HUGE fit before church. He screamed at home. He fought and kicked as I got him in the car. He refused to go inside the building. I finally got him inside, but only as far as some chairs in the hallway. I was rattled and frustrated, not in a performing state of mind at all. It was so bad that Jeff took Samuel home before the meeting even started.

Which brings us to today. Samuel again threw a tantrum about attending church. I couldn't leisurely reason with him because I had to be at the church in five minutes to do a final run-through with some singers -- surprise! I bribed Samuel with the only yummy morsels in the house: chocolate chips. Emma packed a baggie for him that I figured he'd consume by the time we arrived.

Phew! Crisis averted. Nope! I did the rehearsal then sat at the edge of the pew with my family. I looked over during the opening hymn and saw a brown smudge in Samuel's ear.  Yes, in. My vigorous attack on the ear with a tissue must have caught Jeff's attention, for he also looked over, registered shock and mouthed, "Uh. Ther. Side."

It's time to insert a little-known scientific fact: the opening of the outer ear traps just enough body heat to melt a chocolate chip into an impenetrable blockage.

That's why I once again fled the chapel. It took a while to get Samuel cleaned up, but he was too noisy to rejoin the congregation.  I held Samuel and hovered near the door so I'd know when it was my turn. I anticipated depositing Samuel with Jeff as I walked past the bench on my way to the piano. Instead, Jeff came out to the foyer and rescued me.  He once again provided the damage control that allowed me to perform. So thank you, Jeff. We're on a steep learning curve with this kid! It's not exactly the piano practicing I had in mind.