A moment of quiet comtemplation

I took the children to church today. Jodi was off warming up his skiing muscles with a friend so I took them. Both of them. By myself. Now, as lovely as my children are, Finn is four and Meg is nearly two, which is explanation enough but added to that, neither of them are overly familiar with the inside of a church. My fault. So it was with some trepidation that I undertook today's mission. By myself.
I had taken time to explain to them  both that there are moments during the service when you are expected to listen to the Pastor talk, and moments when you can sing as loudly and exuberantly as you like, and very precious moments when you must sit quietly and let church members enjoy the quiet to do with as they please. First mistake. These statements should have held the word 'silence' at least once. Quiet, after all, implies that quiet talking is allowed - as Finn took the time to point out to me during the 'individual prayer' section of the service. Meg loved the music; they have a band in this church, with singers and microphones and drums, and she joined in with gusto. It was getting her to stop when the band finished that was tricky. There were moments of anticipated quiet during today's service punctuated by Meg da-d'da-da-da-ing at the top of her voice. Then, about 25 minutes in,  there was the, "I think I'm going to be sick" incident.
A bit of background for you: we have never been to this church before. Several of my friends go there so we thought we'd give it a try. At least I did. By myself. Thus you can imagine my horror when Finn went white and bottom-lip-trembly and announced that vomit was pending. The Pastor was well into her sermon, Meg having finished singing was colouring and eating apple bread (bad idea - the crumbs!), and we were sitting about half way down the nave. I stole a glance behind me, hoping for empty pews and a quick, surreptitious exit route but, no. Turns out that this church is quite popular and every pew had people in it. What to do? Call it a day and make a sharp exit? Wait it out and hope to make it to the sidewalk before Finn chundered all over the kneelers? We waited with everything crossed. I did put my coat on and I made sure that Meg had her boots on in readiness, but we waited. After a while, Finn decided that he would like to try his snack and once fed, his stomach subsided and his colour returned. Panic over. I took off my coat.
Then Meg, snack finished, enquired, "Home?" in her church filling, high pitched toddler voice, "Home?" Honestly, you spend that long encouraging them to talk and then they drop this on you! I'm sure the gentleman behind us sniggered.
The remaining ten minutes passed smoothly and the Pastor introduced herself at the door and hoped to see us again. I half expected her to point out that child care is available during the service but bless her she didn't. Finn is looking forward to going back as he wants to go to Sunday school where he can ask theological questions of someone more qualified than I am to answer them, and Meg wants to do some more dancing to the beat of the band. Look out St.James, we'll be back!