Is this seat saved?

Day three:  The sin of seat saving

I love the people I go to church with.

Side note:  I know the correct way to write that would be, "with whom I go to church," but that sounds so uber proper and stuffy, so I'm sticking with the illiterate's version this time.  I'm throwing that out there as a preemptive strike against anyone who wants to call me on it.

Where was I?  Oh yes, church love.

I believe the people in my church and neighborhood are some of the finest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.  I would never dream of pointing out any flaws in their character.

But...

If I HAD to...

I wouldn't, of course, but if I HAD to...

I'd be forced to bring up the issue of seat-saving.  You know, holding a place on a bench or in a row for people who are not yet there but who will be eventually (like probably WELL AFTER the meeting actually starts)?  It's often done at movie theaters or concerts or sporting events.

I'm not referring here to the use of humans as placeholders.  I have no problem with that.  If a few of one's family members arrive early or on time and want to save a few seats, I'm all for it.

What I must protest is the use of inanimate objects--NON-PEOPLE--as a means of saving numerous seats (like an entire row) for friends or family just so that said friends and family don't have to make the bothersome effort to get there in time to get a good seat  (good=cushioned pews as opposed to folding metal chairs).

I have three words for the perpetrators of such a transgression:  Tisk, tisk, tisk.

This hasn't been a problem until recently.

I'm one of those on-time kinda gals.  For the most part, I'm typically early to most events.  I might add that, with four kids to wrangle, this is no small task, especially when it comes to getting us all to church in a timely manner.  But, with a few exceptions, we manage it.  I might also point out that those "few exceptions" are almost ALWAYS my kids' fault.  No really, it's true.  They're mega cute, but they have little regard for punctuality.

Sunday mornings at my house are often laden with much blood, sweat and tears.  Just ask any mom who's ever had to get multiple kids cleaned and pressed and out the door by herself in a matter of a couple of hours.

I need a nap just typing about it.

So imagine my deep discouragement when I show up to church ten minutes early, only to find that the comfy seats are already occupied.  I don't realize this, however, until I have walked right up to the end of the row, ready to sit down, and discover to my horror that the bench is lined with one or more of the following:

purse
keys
Bible
Ziploc bag of Lucky Charms
shoe
diaper
ABC gum

I'm not kidding you.  People get pretty creative with this seat saving business.  And it's serious.  If I were to carefully move that ABC gum out of the way so that my family, who are ACTUALLY PRESENT IN THE BUILDING, could sit down, I'd have a fight on my hands.  I'd be considered...well...rude.

I've tried arriving earlier.  Quarter 'til:  saved.  Twenty 'til:  saved.  Sun-up:  saved.

I give up.

When I lived in Arizona, seat-saving got to be such a problem that our local leaders came out with a formal policy on it.  It went something like:  "Knock that off.  If you want a place to sit, get yourself here and sit your righteous tushy in the seat."

I'm paraphrasing slightly for dramatic effect, but that was the gist.

As a mom, I get annoyed with my kids when they use the "that's not fair" line on me.  Life isn't fair.  I remind them of this on quite the regular basis.  But on the subject of seat-saving, I have to say that using items from your diaper bag to save numerous spots on a pew just isn't FAIR to the rest of us who get up extra early and work extra hard to get to church on time and get a good seat for our loved ones' righteous tushies.

I figure if it's important enough for our leaders to mention it, it's important enough for a worn-out, cushy-seat-lovin' mommy to bring it up, too.

Sorry I'm not sorry.