In our true fashion we were running a little late, but found a spot that wasn't 1/2 a mile from the door so we pulled in. Have I mentioned just how nice everyone is in Tupelo? OMG ~ this ain't the midwest anymore, people! We walk through the doors of the balcony and a lady motions for us to come over and sit down by her and her husband. You know when strangers say hi just because they are friendly and you wrack your brain trying to remember if you know them? Ok, it's like that when you walk past anyone here, because everyone is THAT friendly. At the end of the service the lady welcomed us to the church and introduced herself by first and last name. I love that, because I do that. It helps me remember names if I hear both.
As we get to our car I hear my perfect angel husband say, "Son of a ..." except he says the word and I take cover, because: A) My husband NEVER utters such irreverent language AND B) We are 10 feet from the front door of God's House! This is what caused the fall of my man...

Would you believe that some Barney Fife was cruising the streets by the church handing out tickets? I'm guessing by the lack of southern hospitality he must be from around these parts and I'm wondering... will the fine we pay count as our tithe?