I actually wasn’t sure I was going to get this picture; I saw it on my way home on Wednesday, and didn’t stop until Friday, when I pulled into the parking lot and snapped a couple of pictures. I had a brief twinge of guilt, like maybe I should call the 87 year old church secretary and let her know about the misspell. My urge to be a good samaritan left me when I realized that I may never get this chance again in the age of spell check. Sure, I live in North Carolina, where the teachers are discouraged from teaching children anything other than what is necessary to pass annual “end-of-grade” tests. You’d think this kind of thing would happen all the time. It doesn’t. Or if it does, I’m too busy writing down litter bugs’ license plate numbers so I can report them to the DOT to notice.
I had several thoughts on my drive home from the Oak Grove Presbyterian Church. My first thought was that maybe it was all a clever ploy to get more butts in the pews. I mean, they got me half-way there–I was in the parking lot, albeit briefly. I also had a procrastinator’s jealousy of the preacher’s time-management skills. Wednesday morning and he already had Sunday’s sermon written? I tip my hat to you, sir. I ran out of toilet paper last Thursday and I’ve been wiping my butt with paper towels ever since because I keep putting off running down to the neighborhood Food Lion.
Though I could probably win a 4th grade spelling bee. You, Rev. Tragety? Maybe not.