My partner is Catholic. Whether he say so or not he is devout catholic.He is Team Pontiff all the way. With that being said I woke everyone up at 6am in the morning to make it to early morning Easter Mass. I had carefully picked out my and my son’s outfit. My partner wanted to where his Comic Book T-shirt, with a pair of frayed jeans, and pair of flip flops. Now in his defense, while at the VA someone launched chair in across the room that landed on his foot. However this didn’t explain the t-shirt. We were running late. This meant I had to compromise on his outfit. At the end of the day he is his own person. Whom am I to say how he is dressing? He kept the jeans and changed into plum dress shirt I purchased (with his money) for him sometime back. So picture it… Shower shoes, torn up jeans, and nice plum dress shirt. Also the jeans are too big for him.
I think I mention in a previous that my partner is frequently buying clothes and giving them away. Since we started dating this is the longest he has kept a group of jeans. So he then decides to take his belt and pull as tight as he can above his navel. He walks in to the nursery and says, ” What do you think?” Ladies and Gentlemen, we were down to the wire. 15 minutes left before we had to leave, and I didn’t have time to persuade to wear something else. I told him to pull the shirt out and said lets go.
We were late. I crept in but the Cathedral was fuller than I expected. Anyways I was trying to keep cool like I didn’t just walk into Easter Mass late. After about 15 minutes I found myself so dizzy. In Catholic Mass there is a lot of sitting, standing, and kneeling. My head was spinning. I was hot. So hear this, I had completely forgot that I was being weened off a medication they put me on for postpartum issues. I was going through a full withdrawal right in the church. I imagine when people talk about harlots in church that this is what I felt like.
As I am standing up for the thousandth time, my son started squealing in excitement. Now I am nauseous and embarrassed. My partner grabbed our son to walk him outside. So now it’s time for blessing and taking of the Eucharist. So I knew my partner was going to rush in because this our son’s first Easter Mass. So they brought out the Aspergillum (the holy water sprinkler). I didn’t want anyone to see me but I start positioning myself like soccer players do during a free kick just so I can catch maybe a sprinkle. All of a sudden I hear this lady talking about her jacket. She was freaking out over the holy water hitting her jacket!
Now don’t get me wrong. The jacket was pretty color, but it wasn’t something to get caught up over a little water. My hair is straight up 4 shades of purple. If water hits my hair, at this point, there will be purple dye all over everyone. Needless to say everyone froze in the in ear shot. My partner whispered, ” She should be glad that she did that in this day in age. Some woman would have stabbed her in the Dark Ages just to get some holy water.” Her excuse was that she was old, she really cares about her clothes, and she isn’t catholic. I really care about my clothes. I spend good money on my clothes. I spend good money on vintage clothing. I spend a good 200+ dollars on shoes per year. At the end of the day it’s water, whether you are catholic or not.
After the Eucharist, I stumbled out all the way to the car when I notice that I hadn’t bought pancake syrup or champagne for brunch. I kept asking my partner all over and over,” Can you buy alcohol on Sundays in Houston?” I ran into a grocery with partner complaining about how he hates pancakes, and really doesn’t like syrup. I make it to the check outline to find out I was right; You can’t buy alcohol on a Sunday. Later that day I found out my