Wednesday, March 30, 2011

The Heathen gives it up for Lent

The Man refers to me as The Heathen.

I should explain... My converted Catholic brother always makes comments when there's a family gathering that involves churches, communion, baptisms or weddings. He tells me, no matter what the time of year or the weather forecast, he expects impromptu lightning strikes wherever I may sit or stand. It happened at the MC's speech at his wedding (his very Catholic brother-in-law). It happened at my neice and nephew's baptisms. It happens whenever his in-laws say grace at a meal. Chairs close to me are pushed way back to give me a wide berth. I'd like to say it's because of my wide ass, but I know differently. They fear the wrath. They fear the lightning. They fear their association with The Heathen.

The Man has picked up the torch, especially since I do not go to church (if god is everywhere, then he'll hear me pray in the john). I also went to the Heathen School (public and very non-Catholic). I grew up with no set religion, no need to venture into a church every Sunday, no church choir, and that's okay with me. The Man is a non-practising Catholic. We don't go to church. We do not say grace at meals. So, it was much to his amusement that I announced that I was going to give up something for Lent.

So, I have not had more than four sips of pop (soda for those in the U.S.). No Diet Pepsi, no Coke Zero, no Diet Sprite or Gingerale. I've had small sips but I have yet to crack open a full can or bottle for myself. And, I'm jonesing.

But despite my ability roll someone for a Diet Pepsi, I have succeeded. I have not succumbed. And, I dragged The Man along for the ride. I figured since I was willing to go without, he should too. It is, after all, for his Catholic diety.

The Man figured it wouldn't last, or at least he hoped since I pursuaded him to give up peanut butter until Easter. It's his arch-nemesis. If it's in the house he will eat it every single day and sometimes twice a day. I think he's having peanut-butter inspired dreams and withdrawl. I heard him mutter in his sleep last night "I will smother it in peanut butter" with a licking of the lips. I think there was a dry hump in there too.


  1. I'll try not to wave any pop in front of your face, but The Man's gonna get taunted! Bahahahahahaaaaaa!

  2. I gave up Diet Pepsi. I lasted a day. Damn Satan.

  3. Anasatan, I appreciate your restraint with me. I think we should buy a vat of peanut butter and leave it in The Man's parking space.

    Libby, Satan will get you every time, or so that's what The Man keeps telling me. By the way, lightning smarts!