It is 10:39am on Easter Sunday.
I am in my pajamas.
Prophecy fulfilled bitches!!!! That's right, my two-year church famine remains intact as I predicted!
If you've been following along, you'll know that my in-laws have been quietly (and not-so quietly) angling to get me and my family to church today. They've sent my daughters Easter Dresses, emails about putting our children on "the right path," and constant quieries about our activities for the holiday.
Meanwhile, I have been quietly hoping that we would NOT be in church. Not just because I'm a a heathen, but because church on Easter seems just a bit EXTRA, know what I mean? It doesn't so much bother me that everyone is there to show off their new duds and freshly-scrubbed devotion, it's the minister I'm worried about. They seem contractually obligated to go that extra mile on Easter, marathon preaching.
At least, so I'm told.
I don't know that I've ever been in a church on Easter. So, this is just a guess. But let me share with you two comments I heard this morning that further illustrate WHY I've never been.
Comment #1:"You know, Easter really sucks."
This is my mother as she dutifully picks up plastic green "grass" and consolidates the children's chocolate treats into plastic ziplock bags.
"It's messy and the only people who get anything out of it are the fucking candy companies."
Starting to get the picture yet?
Comment number 2: "Oh yeah," she exclaims, "I forgot it was Easter today."
That's my eldest daughter waking up and responding to the news that if the Easter Bunny left anything for her and her sister.
To be truly honest, we haven't fully escaped Easter's orbit as we are currently getting dressed to meet my mother-in-law for brunch at Houlihans -- which, I guess for her, is the next best thing to getting us in church. I'm sure we'll hear wonderful things about the service and be offered an invitation to attend something very soon.
The funny thing is, as much as I am opposed to church, my wife is the one who truly dug her heels in. She KNEW we would be under pressure to go to some sort of church service so she made sure NONE of us had anything "proper" to wear. All four of us are wearing jeans, sealing our heathenistic fate not to step foot in a church.
So there, take that Christian holiday. You've just been defeated by denim.