Back in the early 80’s when my husband and I were first married, it seemed the local churches (and they still may) had Tuesday nights set aside for visiting folks around town. Our first home was on a nice little U shaped street with a center alley in the back for driveways, so guests had to park on the curb in front of the house while visiting. Church folks tended to just park at the end of the street and walk door-to-door inviting residents to attend church the following Sunday morning. Well – I have a sure fire bet that we’ll never be invited to this church ever – Ever – EVER!
One Tuesday evening, my hubby had mowed the lawn and was quite stinky with sweat and needed to shower. We had a little split plan home with the master bedroom on one end and the guest bedrooms and bath on the other. He went into our bathroom, peeled off his clothes and then discovered we were out of bath towels in the master bath. Not remembering the front interior door was open with the glass storm door secured, he walked past the front door through the house towards the back bath. When he rounded the corner going back to the bedroom he was facing the front door and came face-to-face with two little Christian women with hand poised to ring the doorbell. “Crap!” he said, ducking into the bedroom. I was feeding the baby and had no idea what had just happened and got up to see what was going on. I saw the two women walking away from my front door. They looked back and then turned and kept walking. (I would have given anything to hear that conversation when they reported back on how their visitation went that night). Yep! And, that was the LAST time our doorbell rang on Tuesday Nights. 😉