I say stupid things. It’s probably because I really wish someone would pay me for being funny. Sometimes, it just doesn’t come out right. Let’s be honest…MOST of the time it doesn’t come out right. I have exceptional skill when it comes to putting my foot in my mouth.
Our church has a program called “Kids Church”. It’s like Sunday School, but we don’t call it that because we’re Catholic. It Just Isn’t Done Like That. Or some such nonsense. Anyway, right before the homily, the kids who are too cracked out on blueberry muffins to sit still (my children) are dragged up to the alter to be
exorcised blessed and then they disappear to learn taxidermy or whatever it is they do in the conference room. (They come back covered in glitter and magic marker so, whatever. At least I get to sit through the homily in peace.)
Cereal Killer was playing loud-shy today. He needed me to walk up to the alter with him because, “I AM TOO SHY TO GO BY MYSELF.” Yeah. The whole congregation knows now, pal. Super.
So, I am standing up there, looking at all the freshly minted high school graduates sitting in the first pew. It was “Senior Sunday”. That’s the day when parents force their children in to their graduation gowns and haul them to church. Most of them haven’t seen this place since their first communion by my estimation. Well, I am looking at them and a “funny” moment comes over me.
Before I tell you what I said -in a Catholic church- I have to try to defend myself. My kids are nuts. They have enough energy to power a small city. They wear most babysitters OUT. We joke that they are a form of birth control because the teenage girls who sit for us go home so shell-shocked, they never want to have children. Ever. Ever.
So, as Cereal Killer is squirming around making monkey noises, Rain Man is whining that everyone is a “Stinky Butt” and Foodie is losing her mind screaming because I am now 20 feet away from her and that is horrifying, I look at the high schoolers and just say,
As the words poured from my mouth, I glanced to my right and saw a priest. I cringed and prayed that God would let me go back in time about 5 seconds so I could not say something that made it look like I was endorsing pre-marital sex with birth control to a bunch of teenagers. In front of a priest. In church. At the alter. On Sunday.
I’m probably going to hell. But, maybe those kids will now think twice before getting frisky with the first hot co-ed they meet on campus this fall. Yeah.