Sunday, January 14, 2007

Let's Talk About God Baby - Volume 4

heathen /hee-thuhn/
–noun
1. An unconverted individual of a people that do not acknowledge the God of the Bible; a person who is neither a Jew, Christian, nor Muslim; Often considered pagan, but does not fit that model either
2. An irreligious, uncultured, or uncivilized person.
–adjective
3. Of or pertaining to heathens; pagan.
4. Irreligious, uncultured, or uncivilized.

Well it’s now been about three months since my grandmother {the notorious Greektradgedius Inyiddish} decided that we were all going to become a civilized tribe of this here society that I call hell, but on the map looks a lot like New Hampshire. Phase one consisted of guilting the ever loving shit out of me. Phase two whining like she is the youngest of my family and not the oldest. Phase three, instigating the need for religion. Phase four, picking my religion. Phase five, abandoning said religion. Phase six demanding that I continue her variance of civilizing my society. In the end this had been one of the few things that had backfired on her, and the added “forced” responsibility that she had tried to impose didn’t quite work out the way she had planned.

Originally she made us all go to her church so that she could have this “altered reality” and assumable “greeting card” moments with all of us being her usual scenic add ons, then she did the usual thing of getting sick of it after two weeks. This is a typical female trait in my family, but just plays along if you don’t mind while I try to get to the point. Of course the two daughters decided instantly that they loved church and they wanted to be there every week, which means that the good daddy had to bring them. This satisfied the whole “member of society” component that my dear grandmother wanted because as long as the rest of us are there every week, she can take credit for that when she goes to the bank, or the town hall or what not, and rest on being a little older than Jesus Christ’s mother as her reason for not being there. Almost instantly the oldest daughter got head long into church teen groups, and the youngest loved going to bible drama {who would have seen that one coming} so I accepted that. We forgot the boy though, who is more like ME.

Now you all need to understand that for a boy that runs around like he is on crack, and really has no impulse control whatsoever, my son really does have a pretty good grasp of things. He realized after about 3 weeks of going to church without the grandmother there that all he had to do was create enough chaos that he would be thrown out of church. Yep, that’s my boy, I was kind of thinking to myself when about a month ago I had to go down to the Sunday school room because the rest of the class had left it, and locked him in there. They finished their Sunday school in the gym while my wonderful son continued to go totally berserk in there, acting like a dog and ripping all of the books off of the shelves. Now mind you, he has managed to perfect this whole way of getting out of doing what he doesn’t want to with his teacher from last year. She was such an idiot that she couldn’t handle the non ADHD students much less the most ADHD student anyone at that school had ever seen. With that said, the heathen was asked to not return to church, which meant that nobody was going to church. My grandmother was not going to give up her free time to watch him, so I had to tell the other two that church was done.

Well that lasted for one week. We didn’t go to church the next week and the two nagging daughters had immediately diverted their attention to the grandmother because daddy can always tune out the sound of their voices. The grandmother can too but it gets on her nerves sooner or later, and it was when the kids didn’t go to church that one week that all of her friends {the ones who all actually orchestrated the last round of Global warming that wiped out the dinosaurs … shhh don’t tell Al Gore} noticed that the kids weren’t there and thus she wasn’t there that the phone calls started. Her attention immediately started being focused on how I could get the boy back into Sunday school because we were all embarrassing her. I had no problem of course reminding her that hell will be a walk in the park for me, as she has been training me for it for about 36 years. I also added that I don’t give a shit about her image and even went as far as to mock the crying crocodile that she had transformed into. Trust me it had been a bad fall around here so I really wasn’t up for humoring her right before Christmas, which for anyone who reads my blogs knows, was no fucking treat either. In the end the next Sunday she got up bright and early and whined the whole time while she got the girls ready for church.

I immediately started a new regiment with the boy, while they were at church, where in I would suck every ounce of fun out of being alive. It’s a tough job but someone has got to do it actually. The moment that everyone would leave for church all electronics would go off. He would be instructed to clean his room, and every temper tantrum would be met with telling him “You are not going to do what you want instead of going to church, and you will not do anything but clean until they get home,” which was a raging whine fest for the first couple of weeks but did finally wear off. To make matters worse my grandmother actually started enjoying her time out with the girls, and would go out to lunch and do shopping afterwards which would leave the boy in boredom hell for over 4 hours each Sunday, because I would then add, “If you could behave yourself you would have been out with them too, so get back to cleaning your room and doing your laundry!”

Last Tuesday I finally got the phone call from the reverend of the church, who wanted to tell me that I could start bringing my son back to church, and you could hear the loud, Bugs Bunny style gulp from me, as it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear. No matter how hard I tried to convince the reverend that my son is still very much evil {walks past pews and they catch on fire, blood from the eye sockets when he is near a bible, found a triad of sixes in his hair line} the reverend wanted to see him in Sunday school that Sunday. My grandmother was in on it too because she had already told me that she made plans for today and I would have to take them. She’ll need a nursing home sooner or later and she won’t like the one I pick damnit! I was only slightly worried as I knew that the boy couldn’t make it through a whole Sunday school class. It’s simply not in his constitution and one Sunday of being bored to tears was merely an investment!

My youngest daughter came in and was jumping up and down on my bed this morning to wake me up {only 4 hours early for church … mental note … substitute “nursing home” for “college” on this one} bright and early for church. I crawled through the process of getting ready and getting these twits ready, as my grandmother had already taken off to make sure that she was free of it all. Her and the other people who discovered fire that day have a little meeting every Sunday at the coffee shop down the road while their ornaments do their forced servitude at the church you see, so I mulled through this alone. I washed the faces, ironed the clothes, got everyone to brush their teeth, etc etc etc. Made it to church, and simply waited for the explosion, and waited, and waited. Finally the Sunday school teachers came out to get the kids, and I was thinking that all I had to do now was wait for the monitor to show my number to go get my kids, and waited, and waited. Church services were almost over, because my buddies wife smacked me in the side of the head to wake me up, and I thank God {see I have religion} that I hadn’t started snoring, or at least she didn’t mind me sleeping on her shoulder, but I guess the drool woke her up. Looking up at the monitor, I still didn’t see my number, damn!

To make a long short, he was good in Sunday school. He was wonderful as a matter of fact, and I have never been so ashamed of him in my life. He was productive and helpful, and he even read the story to the class today, and they can’t wait to see him the next week! The little bastard is never there for me when I need him, let me tell you, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve that might get me out of this weekly church sentence after all! I’ll just go through all my old issues of Musical Methadone and pick out some particularly good ones, and teach that boy how to get thrown out of church properly! At least I have football today for as long as my Patriots let me ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of Jeremy Crow} Mental Notes & Random Musings {Daily Blog} Mental Rants & Political Rage {For Those That Like His Political Rantings} Mental Imagry & Random Perversion {Adult Stories .. Assume they are rated X} Itching For Coffee {Community Blog} Jeremy Crow on Twitter {For The Easily Amused} Blogaholics Anonymous {E-Mail Blogging Group}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

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