I still get choked on the phrase,"My husband's a preacher". But so far, that hasn't changed the fact that he is. Now that you've pictured a lady in a nice ironed dress, finished off with run free pantyhose and a very conservative pair of pumps, sitting prim and proper on the front pew.. Please replace it with a lady who's given up dresses because her toddler once exposed the church to way more than they wanted to see of the preacher's wife, wrestling two kids to the front pew, ten minutes late, while she's trying to wipe their breakfast off their faces that they ate in the car on the way there. That should give you a picture of me (on a good day).