We made a little party for Mac on Saturday to kick off what is shaping up to be a week-long birthday extravaganza. It was a simple party and our guest list was short – his godparents and their son who is about 6 months older than Mac.
I’ve known Mac’s god-mother since 6th or 7th grade. And I was very much looking forward to sharing copious amounts of white sangria with her during the party, until she blurted out she was pregnant! (Squeal!) Apparently thanks to the grapefruit mimosas we guzzled the last time we were together. . .but this isn’t why I’m going to Hell. . .At least I don’t think so.
As a result of her great news, My Husband and I had to up our sangria consumption. I had made a double batch and we wouldn’t want that going to waste. After we cleaned up the party stuff (like with an industrial vacuum and gallons of Dr. Bronner’s – SITCKY everywhere!). We invited our neighbor over for some drinks and nachos. This resulted in my being up until midnight after very little sleep the night before.
So we went to the 10 o’clock mass – late. Besides the fact that I was pretty parched, it could have been a lot worse. And there was a nice breeze blowing through the church. We all plopped down in our usual back corner of the place and I was looking forward to some peace and quiet for the next 40 minutes.
Except we do not normally attend this mass and the Priest I’m used to wasn’t there. It was this other guy. And while I’m certain he’s a very nice man, I couldn’t for some reason understand half of what he was mumbling. Yes, I’m sure it wasn’t just my sangria pickled synapses misfiring.
I’m not exactly a huge fan of organized religion but I believe it’s important for children to have some knowledge of religion since Biblical references are prevalent in literature, it can be a way to help foster a greater sense of community, etc. However, if Mac decides when he’s older he’d rather practice a different religion or no religion, that will be his decision. I believe spirituality is very personal.
So my point is, I basically go to church to hear the sermon. I was not raised Catholic and I do not necessarily understand the entire mass. Although, I’m looking forward to learning since things like this interest me – symbolism, history, etc.
But yesterday was NOT a good sermon. If fact, it wasn’t a sermon AT ALL! Not only did this guy sound like he had a bunch of peanut butter (or communion wine) gumming up his speech, he was just making a pitch for the congregation to donate money to some overseas humanitarian relief efforts.
I have no doubt, it’s a worthy cause and I’m sure we’ll stroke a check. But I didn’t need a 25 minute pitch to reach that conclusion. All I kept hearing was “Blurb, blurb, blah, blah CHOLERA! Blurb, blah, blah SCHOOLS! Blah, blah, blah, HOSPITALS! Blurb, blah, SIN!”
My sangria foggy head was ready to explode. And here’s where the eternal damnation part comes in: I found myself hoping not exactly praying. . .ok, maybe praying a little bit. . . that Mac would start squirming so I could take him out of the church.
I know! I know! Terrible! But I couldn’t listen to that guy one minute longer. I’m not sure which I found more offensive: the fact that I couldn’t understand half of what he was saying or the actual content of what I could decipher!
And when my good little guy started getting a little wiggly, I scooped him up, drug him outside and, like the heathen I apparently am, I rewarded him with crackers.
Have you ever “used” your kid to get out of a situation, place, or obligation?
Even if I end up in purgatory, my sangria was HEAVENLY: Pour about 1.5 bottles of white wine (I used Sauvignon Blanc), a cup of reduced calorie white grape juice and about 1/4 sugar (or to taste) into a large pitcher. Stir until sugar dissolves. Add some sliced nectarines, white grapes, and some Granny Smith Apples. Allow everything to chill for a couple of hours. Pour into glasses and top off with a little club soda for fizz.