For our eternal souls

As is evident from my last post, Edgar and I participated in his agonizing agreement with his mother on Easter and went to church with her. Good ol' Catholic Church on Easter Sunday for a girl who is in no way Catholic. Who gets nothing out of these services except extreme annoyance at the whole stand-up, sit-down, nah just kidding stand-up again routine that these people have going on.

I'm not joking. Of an hour long service, we spent over 40 minutes on our feet. WHAT IS THE POINT OF THE FUCKING PEWS? Get rid of those and you could really pack more people in on the one day of the year when the people who are too fucking lazy and/or really don't care enough to go to church any other day of the year decide that they better take one for the team lest they end up in eternal hellfire. And then promptly forget about it the next day until Easter of the following year.

And I hate that I can be counted among those hypocritical people. I do deflect some of the blame from myself, though, since I don't actually go there for the experience of being at church, but because I'm only there because my husband made a bargain with his mom to make her get off his back about how he doesn't go to church. GUESS WHO DOESN'T HOLD UP HER END OF THE BARGAIN? Plus the fact that these rare church-going days occur on the holidays of Easter, Mother's Day, and Christmas Eve, days that we would then spend with his parents anyways, and so I'm pretty much forced into going to church with them because otherwise I would be that anti-social bitch sitting alone for an hour at his parents' house while waiting for them to get back. Plus I don't want Edgar to have to go through it alone.

Forget what anyone else tells you. THAT is love, my friends.

Oh, and this year we were ever-so-lucky that Section 5 Paragragh 2 Line 3 of this church-going agreement came into play, because we had the [mis]fortune for his mother's birthday to fall on a Sunday in January. And apparently when her birthday is on a Sunday, it becomes a church Sunday. GOODY. A Sunday that this year happened to fall two days after the anniversary of Roe v. Wade. SUPER GOODY. Which means that this pro-choicer had to listen to the beginning of a sermon damning the rights of women to have control over their reproductive systems. Luckily Edgar hates listening to things like that as well and was all "Sorry, Mom, we're outta here."

Wow, this post quickly went somewhere I was not intending it to go.