For Memory's Sake

Picture this: 

We're in church. Two adults personifying bookends at either end of the pew. A few cars have fallen to the floor and drawing paper is scattered. Tithe envelopes and hymnals have, of course, already been confiscated.

I hear my oldest son droning in a pitch not too far from middle C. Not super loud...but very constant. I'm waiting for him to stop.

He doesn't. I gesture with my finger to my lips, whispering "sssshh".

Still droning.

So my pleas become more urgent -- "please be more quiet because everyone is trying to listen to the man speaking".

His response?

"That man {in front of us} has his arm on my organ keys."

His arm was indeed resting on the back of the pew, where, unbeknownst to him, lay Peter's organ keys.

I don't know if said man heard this dialogue, but soon he moved his arm. And Peter smiled and said,

"Now I can be quiet."

So help me God. Pretend play will one day have me six feet under.