I’m not gonna lie. I like starting back to a fresh, new week. We had a relaxing Saturday with some of my family and a fun, kid’s birthday party that evening. I guess it’s a newish trend, instead of gifts, to give donated toys to inner-city kids in need. And I could not have thought of a better idea myself. With the new things we get from family, we don’t necessarily need nine more ninja figurines or board games with ten-million game-pieces from the birthday party. The kids had fun; and I was able to catch up with a few of the moms.
Somehow, the random, weird church experience came up in conversation. Apparently, one evening this minister thought an "open mic" time was a good idea. Anyone who felt the need could stand and share with the audience of a couple-thousand how he or she had been blessed recently. So, a man stood up to speak about feeling so blessed that he and his wife had the security within their relationship to share anything they wanted to with each other. Fine enough. But he explained further just so everyone could gain a better understanding of exactly what he meant by that. He’d been able to tell his wife about the funeral he attended of a homeless man. And his wife had been able to tell him about her best friend being MORTIFIED to have sex with her husband. But the part that was relevant was that it blessed him… recently... and so he told everyone.
And then the memory of a woman once visiting our small group a long time ago [who whipped out her giant boob to nurse her almost-three-year-old right in the middle of her tirade about political injustice] popped in to my head. And now I can’t get it out. Side note: I am in no way against breast-feeding for as long as you feel necessary, or in a modest way in public for that matter. But this was awkward. Very.
Luckily, this Sunday didn’t include any giant, arbitrary, whipped-out boobs… just a nice afternoon gearing up for a new week. Brent vacuumed - bless his ever-lovin’ soul! Something about the minor lunging involved with vacuuming pregnant leaves my left butt all tense and in knots after I’ve done as much vacuuming as he did. So, that BLESSED ME recently. While he was sweeping away, I was able to wash, fold, and put away all of our laundry. I can’t get over what a good mood it puts me in to find exactly what I’m looking for exactly where it’s supposed to be – especially underwear and socks.
You know what will put me in a bad mood?
Jury duty.
I have been summoned for jury duty. I lost sleep last night stressing about how NOT excited I am about that. I’ve got a doctor’s note and will be trying everything. However, I hear they don’t let people off that easily anymore. I might as well go in there with one of those fake head-wound rubber knife-handles sticking out of my skull, use the N word and poop in the corner. I’m not honestly sure that’d work, considering the group I served on a jury with last time I got this God-forsaken summons in the mail.
Somehow, the random, weird church experience came up in conversation. Apparently, one evening this minister thought an "open mic" time was a good idea. Anyone who felt the need could stand and share with the audience of a couple-thousand how he or she had been blessed recently. So, a man stood up to speak about feeling so blessed that he and his wife had the security within their relationship to share anything they wanted to with each other. Fine enough. But he explained further just so everyone could gain a better understanding of exactly what he meant by that. He’d been able to tell his wife about the funeral he attended of a homeless man. And his wife had been able to tell him about her best friend being MORTIFIED to have sex with her husband. But the part that was relevant was that it blessed him… recently... and so he told everyone.
And then the memory of a woman once visiting our small group a long time ago [who whipped out her giant boob to nurse her almost-three-year-old right in the middle of her tirade about political injustice] popped in to my head. And now I can’t get it out. Side note: I am in no way against breast-feeding for as long as you feel necessary, or in a modest way in public for that matter. But this was awkward. Very.
Luckily, this Sunday didn’t include any giant, arbitrary, whipped-out boobs… just a nice afternoon gearing up for a new week. Brent vacuumed - bless his ever-lovin’ soul! Something about the minor lunging involved with vacuuming pregnant leaves my left butt all tense and in knots after I’ve done as much vacuuming as he did. So, that BLESSED ME recently. While he was sweeping away, I was able to wash, fold, and put away all of our laundry. I can’t get over what a good mood it puts me in to find exactly what I’m looking for exactly where it’s supposed to be – especially underwear and socks.
You know what will put me in a bad mood?
Jury duty.
I have been summoned for jury duty. I lost sleep last night stressing about how NOT excited I am about that. I’ve got a doctor’s note and will be trying everything. However, I hear they don’t let people off that easily anymore. I might as well go in there with one of those fake head-wound rubber knife-handles sticking out of my skull, use the N word and poop in the corner. I’m not honestly sure that’d work, considering the group I served on a jury with last time I got this God-forsaken summons in the mail.
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