There's a grouchy old man at our church whom we often end up sitting in front of. He seems to particularly dislike children, and spends most of the service grumbling to his wife about everything he can see them doing that he disapproves of. He wears a permanent scowl and is a generally unpleasant human being. Until today, I have tuned him out. His opinion matters about as much to me as that of a neighborhood cat. I suspect, because our church is highly ethnic, that in the past most of the families sat on the left side of the church as is traditional in Russian culture, and he did not have to be bothered with their fidgeting and complaining. Now our church is becoming crowded and the children have spilled over into the right side as well. Too bad for him. He should be happy that the congregation is growing.
This morning he was griping and complaining as usual, especially after another family arrived with their toddlers to sit near us. I ignored him until I heard him say rather loudly, directed at the Princess: "And this one, here, someone should tie her up and put her in a bag."
I managed to refrain from breaking his nose on the spot. I've learned that simmering rage gets the job done better than boiling fury, so I try not to react quickly when I get truly angry. But he has not heard the last of this. I will be handing him a note next week. I suspect he will take it up with our priest, and he's welcome to do so. I'm quite sure he won't win that argument. And as further evidence of my self control, I will not include with the note a gift-boxed body bag with his name on it. But I would really, really like to.