The Greatest Team.....Back Again

Another Brian and Megan story!

The house that we lived in until I was roughly 8 years old was right across from our church which was where my Dad was serving as pastor. My father has been a pastor as long as I've been born but this was the one time I remember living directly across from the church he served. Our next house, when we moved to a new town, was a block away from the church, so it wasn't far but not right across the street.

This memory took place in late October, early November around when I was 5 or 6 years old. Brian and I were outside playing catch and running plays with the football. Brian was the quarterback and he would tell me which way to run and turn so I'd be where the ball would be thrown. Of course, every catch equaled a touchdown and because I loved sports and did well, there were A LOT of touchdowns. <------That was me tooting my own horn!

So, we were outside in the Fall air and leaves playing football when all of a sudden Dad asked us if we'd run over to the church, go to his office and grab his monthly planner. Of course we happily obliged and brought the football with us.

I know you think you can see where this is going but trust me....you're wrong!!

So we walked across the street and went into the church. I'm not sure it was because this was a while ago or if it was because we lived in a small town but the church was ALWAYS unlocked. I always loved the idea that the church was open to the congregation or even strangers if they wanted to be in a sanctuary and pray. Of course events happen and things change and so many churches now are locked to the world. It's unfortunate and symbolic really, but I digress.

When you walked into the church from the particular door we always used, to the left was the fellowship area and kitchen. When you walked into that area you could see into the sanctuary through windows and there were double doors to the middle isle into the sanctuary. If you were looking at the alter there were two podiums on either side. The left podium (lecturn) was usually where the readings from the bible were read, the right was where Dad would give his sermon and read the gospel (the pulpit). The pulpit was bigger and a bit more pompous in comparison. If you were a visitor to the church in general, you would assume that's where the big presentations come from, and you'd be right.

Sometimes pictures are a helpful tool so below is a picture that is similar to how our church looked but minus the HUGE pillars on the side. Basically, where the pillars start is where our church ended. It was a big church but not that big! The white door on the right was how you got to Dad's office.


So we walked down the center isle to the alter and then walked in front of the pews and went through the door to Dad's office. His desk was immediately to the right when you opened his door and though he wasn't the most organized person, the desk was never too messy. His monthly planner aka appointment book had a red cover so it was quick to spot. We grabbed it and went on our way.

As we were walking through the church it was only natural to run down the center isle toward the back fellowship room and go for a "Hail Mary" pass. (I feel the stars are aligned when you throw a "Hail Mary" pass in the sanctuary of a church. It feels the most natural place for that pass to happen and we did not allow for this irony to pass us up!)

We played catch up the isle but then we started to actually play football. This usually meant that Brian would pretend to tackle me, lifting me up in the air and laying me down slowly. We LOVED doing everything with slow motion movements and sounds. You'll have to look at my last blog entry about the "mountain avalanche" for a visual of slow motion action at it's best.

We then realized that the fellowship hall was this huge expanse of open space just calling for us to play football. So the geniuses we were (are), remembered that the pews had cushions on them that could be removed, so we grabbed 10-15 burgundy colored cushions and laid them down in the fellowship area. It looked like a football field dreamt up by Roald Dahl's "Willy Wonka"! But of course, his would be made from taffy and it would taste of raspberry.

So we had begun playing football and I would say got 15 minutes of play in, which comes to about 10 or so plays, when all of a sudden we heard the front door open and shut.

IT WAS DAD!!

Growing up, Dad had a short fuse and only occasionally would listen to an explanation or colorful excuse. However, this time he was completely at a loss for words. His reaction was instead to not blink and slightly shift his bottom jaw to the right, like a lopsided under bite! Can you picture it? Did your parents do this? Do you do this now, if you have kids? If you do, DON'T! It will make them laugh Every.Time.

After about 15 hours (or so) of silence, Dad finally spoke.

"Megan, Mom wanted me to let you know that there is a movie on TV with Dolly in it."

I was the BIGGEST fan of Dolly when I was really little (still am in many ways) and it was not unlike my family to alert me when she was on TV or the radio. What I love about this memory is that it was almost painful for my Dad to tell me the news, having just witnessed our shenanigans!

So with that, I was able to leave and Brian was left to clean up our mess. The moment I realized I was able to leave, I BOLTED to the door. "BYE BRIAN!!!"

Off I went, back home to watch Dolly in "A Smokey Mountain Christmas". It was much too soon to be showing Christmas movies but I wasn't going to question it. I should really write Dolly Parton, letting her know she got me out of a jam when I was younger. I'm forever indebted to her!

I'm guessing Brian had heartburn for me AND Dolly after that, but it faded quickly.

After all....we were the Greatest Team!

Family Memories: The Greatest Team Strikes Again

Get ready for another Megan and Brian adventure!

From the time I was roughly 2 years old to 8 years old, my family and I lived in a wonderful house in a small town in SW MN. When I think of great childhood memories, I think both of Brian and this particular house. It wasn't the biggest house but it did have 4 bedrooms which fit my family just right. If you interject simple math, the way that works out: my two brothers got their own room while my sister and I had to share (of course so did Mom and Dad). I don't remember this being a problem for me, because as the youngest, I felt pretty great sharing it with my older sister. She was, naturally, cooler than I but that has definitely changed. I've undoubtedly surpassed her in cool points. (Love you, Laura!)

One interesting thing I remember about this house was the door to the upstairs level. This is a small detail you don't find in a lot of houses. Most of the time the stairs are in plain sight but for some reason the builder or architect decided there needed to be a separation between levels in this house. It wasn't a secret door either. It also wasn't a door that when you opened it, found linens or coats. The placement was between the dining room and the living room which seemed anything but a closet and instead was probably quite intriguing for most visitors, wondering what was behind "door number one". For some reason when I take a moment to think about a door with stairs behind them, I immediately picture wooden stairs to an attic that is cold and ominous. That was nothing like the door to our upstairs. The carpet from the main floor of the house limboed itself under the door and continued all the way up the stairs to the second floor. It was never cold but warm and never ominous but...well...home! I also remember the carpet being a very plain, simple, khakis color. The kind that goes with everything.

Also, I imagine anyone with kids or a large family is thinking that a door to the upstairs is a brilliant idea and trust me, we took advantage of such a barrier. If you forgot your shoes downstairs, someone could just put them on the stairs to be brought to your room and then shut the door, leaving all clutter behind so when company did come, the main floor was neat and tidy. Brilliant, right!? OR if you were sent to your room upstairs (this never happened to me), you'd hope they'd shut the door so you wouldn't actually have to go to your room but instead whimper on the steps near the door, thus feeling like you were still a part of the family instead of being barricaded from all fun and excitement. (I apparently have deep wounds that need mending. *sniff*)

Anyway, after a perfect amount of description, on with "The Greatest Team Strikes Again".

As you can only assume, the story is set around and behind this brilliant barrier. Also from my previous post Family Memories: The Greatest Team , you know that Brian and I were constantly thinking up wonderful and ridiculous adventures.

I can't recall if Brian and I just had bouts of genius or we had brainstorming sessions for our brilliant adventures? I think that we both shared a similar imagination and creativity that made us the perfect team. Also with one of us taller than 6 ft and the other around 3 ft, as a team, we could do a lot. He could get to high places and I could fit in small places. Oh, such safety!

One day Brian and I were inspired by the idea that my twin bed mattress seemed to be the perfect width of our stairs. So with this new found adventure on the horizon, we brought my mattress from my room upstairs to the top of the stairs and sure enough it fit just snug enough that it would slowly slide down the stairs but not fast enough where it turned into a bouncy toboggan. So there we were, on the top of "the mountain". We then both laid on the mattress, which was now at roughly a 45 degree incline, pretending we were on a slow motion "avalanche". If you were downstairs looking up, there was one handrail on the right side of the wall and this is where we would hold on trying to survive the "avalanche". It was touch and go a couple times, me sliding down the "mountain" and Brian reaching down to me like Cliffhanger trying to save me from certain death. Of course, we had the door shut and I remember going down the "mountain" several times. Every time, we survived to live another day.

Not only did we survive the slow motion "avalanche" with exaggerated movements but it also included slow motion yelps.

"Noooooooooooooo, I'm sliiiiippppiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnggggggg!!!!!!!!"

It's a wonder that, if there was anyone in the house, they didn't hear us echo from the stairwell. Of course, when you yelp in slow motion it always ends up being quieter than a real scream and about an octave below your normal voice.

Well, we were on our 4th or 5th run-in with the "mountain avalanche" (you'd have thought we'd try and find another summit, right!?) when all of a sudden Mom opens the door to find her two favorite children and a twin sized mattress on the stairs. I'm not sure what Brian's face looked like, but I remember my face because it was the same face I made whenever I thought Mom or Dad was mad or disappointed. It looked something like this...

 

I can't remember if Mom was mad or entertained by our antics (probably both), but all I remember is her saying, "Put. Your. Bed. Back."

 

We put the bed back and probably already trying to think of something else we could do! Back to brainstorming and thinking up another adventure.

 

What I love about these memories of adventures with Brian is, opposed to my brothers when they were younger, our ideas were never destructive. They were simple and imaginative. I mean a twin sized mattress and a narrow stairway = mountain avalanche. I know you're wishing you did this when you were little! And just for the record, I would still do this today, if only to create a memory with Brian. We should always continue to be kids and imagine adventures that ultimately lead to this face when caught...

 

 

...then turns into this...

 

 

 

So, go put on your play clothes and explore your imagination!