Several weeks ago, I was sitting in Sunday School when the class president stood up and asked for a volunteer for prayer. Although this deviates from the preferred method of asking people beforehand, it is a generally accepted form of getting prayers to start the class and move on with our lives.
And then I heard the grumbling behind me.
"That's not the way it's supposed to be," Statler muttered.
"I don't like this," Waldorf responded. "That's not how it's done."
They continued to talk -- all through the prayer -- about how inappropriate it is to not have someone to pray before the meeting starts.
Statler and Waldorf have continued to provide entertainment when I am supposed to be paying attention in church. The week after this, Statler wasn't there and I, unbeknownst to me at first, was sitting next to Waldorf. I discovered my celebrity neighbor when a woman in class made a comment about how sign language is part of the gift of tongues. He leaned over to me and said, "I don't think that's what it means."
Then today I sat behind them in sacrament meeting. The only thing I noticed was when Waldorf said during the sacrament, with an air of foreboding, "not enough bread."
Well, 10 minutes and two testimonies later, the man sitting next to them, who has his own story that he doesn't know that I know, leans over to Statler and says, not quietly, "Pardon me. You talked during the sacrament hymn and during sacrament and during all of the testimonies. It's distracting to me, and I'm sure it's distracting to other people." (Me? No one else was close because I seem to repel people in sacrament.)
I was fascinated. Enthralled. Horrified at his boldness. Wondering what on earth Statler is going to say. Hoping Waldorf responds, also not quietly. Wishing I could see exactly what that guy is writing all over his program, because he's taking some copious notes.
Sadly, there were no fireworks, the muttering, while not completely nonexistent, was sparse, and since I'm in Primary I have no idea if the fun continued.
Speaking of Primary -- four weeks in and they have not made me cry. (I have made them cry. Last week a little boy who was sitting next to me, out of nowhere, started bawling. Today when I wouldn't let a little girl go into the bishop's office for a piece of candy, she started sobbing, just in time for her mother to reach her and wonder why she was sobbing.)
Also, I read "Where the Wild Things Are" in class today. It has nothing to do with the gospel or Jesus Christ or baptism or anything. But they were quiet. And I have no other children's books, unless you count "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." Which I'll probably be reading when I teach again in two weeks.