A humorous Easter prelude

During Good Friday service this evening I was sitting with my five-year-old brother, Elhendur, on my lap. He's a very clever, imaginative, and goofy little boy, and halfway through the service was extremely excited when he noticed that my grandmother and aunt were sitting two pews behind us. He grimaced and grinned in their direction for a while, trying to get their attention, and after a few minutes my aunt evidently noticed him, but my grandmother did not.

"I'm going to keep staring at her," he whispered to me, "until she sees me." Whereupon he fixed this ghastly stare and impossibly wide grin on his face and commenced his leering. This lasted about seven minutes, until his five-year-old patience wore thin and more drastic measures were apparently called for.

He tapped me on the arm. At this point in the service there was a hymn being sung and the priest had gone to bring in the Eucharist from where it was in repose after being taking out of the church in a procession the night before for Holy Thursday. So things were somewhat lulled. Still, I was somewhat distracted because I was listening to the choir--which was remarkably good tonight--and so only paid the cunning little guy half my attention.

"Say this," he was telling me. "Say: hibbly dibbly hobbly doo, I make Booma look at you!" ('I' meaning me, and 'You' meaning himself, and 'Booma' being the name my siblings and I give to my grandmother (long story.).)

Not thinking much of the request (I have really weird siblings, okay?), I did as he asked, in a church-appropriate undertone. He looked intently to where my grandmother was sitting, still oblivious.

After a moment he sagged in disappointment against my front, clearly put-out that nothing of note happened. But ever the optimist he then leaned back, looked up at me thoughtfully, and remarked musingly:

'I think you need a broom.'

And that was when I suddenly was very glad that the choir was singing loud enough to prevent anyone else from noticing that my younger brother had just been encouraging me to attempt witchcraft in the middle of the Good Friday church service.

Little kids. You gotta love them.

. . . Even when they matter-of-factly reveal that they think you are a witch in the middle of Mass.