Going to church twice on Sundays and then again on Wednesday night was how I lived my life. I was there, sitting next to my mother, every time the doors were open. I didn't mind. I loved going to church. It was one of my favorite things to do.

My mom was very strict about everything. Especially about how I was to behave in church. I only had to be taken to the bathroom once in church. I learned my lesson. I sat quietly. I stayed awake. I listened intently. I took notes on the sermon because I had to write an essay about it when I got home. I said my mom was very strict.

She and went to church that Sunday morning. We took our seat, in our usual pew, and waited for the service to start. We shook hands with people as they walked up and down the center aisle. Everything was as it should be.

A family in the church sat next to us. We knew them well. They had been over to our house several times. Just a typical family - a dad, a mom and three children. The kids were younger than I was; the youngest being about three. The mom was always tired, probably from having so many little ones. The dad was a big man, very tall. We could all tell that he loved fried chicken and mashed potatoes after church from the size of his belly.

By the way, his nickname was Dud. He had explained he had gotten that title in high school. Despite his size, he was not a talented tackle on the football team. The coach said he was a dud and it stuck. Everyone called him that. In fact, I don't think I ever knew his real name.

The service started. I sat, sandwiched between my mom and Dud, wishing mom and I could trade place. He shifted around on the pew and was always getting to close to me. I would move closer to my mom and she would slide over. He would shift, I would move and my mom would. Shift, move, slide. Shift, move, slide. If he wouldn't be still, my mom would end up on the floor next to the wall. That, as it turned out, wasn't the problem.

The young kids were playing on the floor in front of us. My mother looked disapprovingly at them, but remained silent. She was getting aggravated. If her child could behave in church, everyone else's could too. She finally turned and shot a look at the other mother.

Immediately, she worn out woman picked up her youngest, in hopes this would settle the others down. It helped some, but not enough to satisfy my mother. That, as it turned out, wasn't the problem.

Dud fell asleep. He stretched his arms out on the back of the pew and fell asleep. I guessed that a man that size could really snore. I hoped his wife would gently nudge him, but she didn't. He sat there, reclined back, and slept.

Then it happened. His youngest, sitting in mom's lap, discovered that her daddy had gone night night. She decided to wake him up. Not the gentle nudge I had been hoping her. She balled up her little fist and socked him in his over-sized gut.

He sat straight up, bringing his arms with him. He shouted, "Uggg!"

He knocked me into the pew in front of me. My head crashed hard against the wood. I ended up on the floor. Blood trickled down my forehead and onto my face. I saw him jump up and turn to face his wife. I heard him shout, "What do you want now?"

The pastor stopped preaching. The entire church was silent.

"Dud went thud," a man's voice in the back said in what was too loud to be a whisper.

The church roared with laughter. I laughed until cried. The pastor even laughed. My mother sat in silence. She was not amused. Once order was re-established, the service went on.

We left quickly, not stopping to chat on the way out. My mother practically dragged me from the church. I sat in the front seat, waiting for my mother to get in, worried what she might do to me for being loud in church.

She slammed her door and jammed the key in the ignition.

Then, much to my surprise, she leaned her head on the steering and laughed. She kept laughing. The parking lot was almost empty when she was able to start the car. She was still laughing. She laughed all the way home.

"There will be no essay today," she giggled as we walked toward our front door.

Learn more about this author, Emma Riley Sutton.