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Oh me, oh my.
The Whitleys were still talking about the Sunday Morning service even after they got into the house.
“I can’t believe the preacher’s still on that series in the Book of Psalms,” said Mr. Whitley. “Man, you’d think he’d be able to summarize it in a few verses and move on. And I can’t believe Mr. Stout dropped the offering plate right at the very back. All that money all over the place! Nearly dropped the juice tray too. I think the guy’s in his 90s. They should retire him and get somebody a bit younger to handle those trays.”
“And did you see the Martin’s little urchin, what’s the kid’s name, Brad – Brat – if you ask me,” said Mrs. Whitley. “The kid just wouldn’t sit still the whole time and how they dress that little boy! Pathetic and disgraceful. And please, let’s get a little more modern with our hymns, shall we? Still in the 17th century!”
Karen the youngest couldn’t be left out and said, “They’re still singing the songs in Children’s Church they sung back three years ago when I was six. They do need some new ones.”
Mr. Whitley looked over at 13-year-old Matt who had his head down and said, “You’ve been awfully quiet, Son. What do you think about all this? What’s your take on it?”
Matt shrugged and said, “Mmm. I dunno. What do you expect for a couple of bucks?”