Not mine. From here.
Marty, a little boy, was in church one Easter Sunday with his mother Doris, when he started feeling sick.
'Mummy,' he inquired, 'can we leave now?'
'No,' his mother replied, 'the service isn't over yet.'
'Well, I think I'm about to throw up.' Marty announced.
'Then go out of the front door and around to the back of the church and throw up behind a bush.' said Doris.
After about sixty seconds, Marty returned to his pew, alongside his mother.
'Did you throw up?' Marty's Mum asked quietly.
'Yes,' Marty answered, embarrassed.
'How could you have gone all the way to the back of the church and returned so quickly?' Doris demanded.
'I didn't have to go out of the church, Mummy. They have a box next to the front door that says, "For the Sick".'