Most people keep quiet about the dumb things that happen in their lives, but anyone who knows me learns quickly that I tell stories about myself. My husband doesn't think it's funny but I do.
The incident began about a month ago when our choir participated in an area hymn sing with numerous other churches and the great composer and organist Michael Burkhardt. The program was held at a church a few miles from ours so we lugged our choir robes and music to that church, rehearsed for an couple hours, and then enjoyed an amazing hymn fest.
The next Sunday, I started down the stairs from the choir room heading for the sanctuary and wondered why my choir robe seemed so large. I had taken it from my hanger #8. I knew I hadn't lost that much weight. But I dismissed the concern and headed to the back of the church where we lined up for the processional.
As the service progressed, I found myself tangled in my sleeves and stepping on my robe. I felt drowning in it. I should have figured it out sooner, but I hadn't. I turned around to look at my husband and started to giggle when I saw his sleeves nearly up to his elbows. I couldn't see the length but I guess the robe hung a little below his knees. When we had sung at hymn festival the week before, we must have mixed our robes on the hangers.
I started to chuckle, and the more I tried to control myself, the more hysterical I became. If anyone in the congregation paid attention to me, sitting up front, they would have assumed I was crying, I suppose. I had tears running down my face, my face scrunched into a horrible grimace, trying to hold back a loud HA HA HA.
When we moved from our chairs to line up in front to singn our anthem, I could only imagine what people thought if they paid attention. This is what they saw.
I still laugh when I look at this photograph.
(Click to enlarge. It's even funnier)