I decided to go to choir rehearsal today. We were late--no surprise there--but I scooted in with Sylvia in time to sing a bit of a pretty Christmas carol. I think Sylvia liked the music as well--she stayed pretty close and calm while I sang.
Which was probably why I spotted the flea crawling through Sylvia's hair.
I managed to catch the flea between the fingernail on my thumb and my index finger, and then went back to singing, wondering what to do with the little bugger. Releasing it was out of the question--I couldn't conscience letting my Indiana-bred flea out into the wider world--so I just kept between my fingers and continued singing.
Sylvia of course became restless after not too long, so I pulled out some snacks to keep her occupied. The first thing she pulled out to eat was a sesame cashew, which she apparently doesn't actually like since she spit it out as soon as she'd chewed it. Right into my non-flea holding hand.
Fortunately, I had a flannel rag, so I was able to wipe most of the chewed cashew off my hand, but there's nothing short of water and soap that'll really remove the stickiness. We made it through the last five minutes of choir practice without incident, at which point I very gingerly started gathering my belongings.
Sylvia and I dropped my bag on a seat in the back row and we high tailed it toward the restroom. And of course, ran into my home teacher, who wanted to talk about geology. Sigh. Most conversations I'd probably politely excuse myself from--especially while covered in regurgitated nuts and holding a flea--but not that one, apparently. In spite of getting to church early, we still managed to miss all but the last line of the opening song. Sigh.