When my older sister was 3, mum told her that she'd be going with her to Church on Sunday. Mary discussed this with her friend across the back fence, a grizzled old Scot with ... ummm ... colourful? language who explained the whole process to her.

They got her into church and stood her on the pew to see better. In came the minister but for some reason the choir was late so Mary (who had a bass voice as a child and always grumpy) demanded loudly, "Where's duh god-dam choir???" which the Scot had promised would process in after the cleric.

sian - who never got into scrapes ... til later