Today, we doodled on the bulletin, cracked jokes during the sermon, used the leather cushions to make fart noises during the Lord's Prayer and laughed almost out loud when the reader said "confissed" instead of "confessed". No matter what, all the old people in the church say how lovely it is to have us there, how beautiful we look, and how much God loves us. It's hilarious. My father, who's only made me go to church this once so far this year, has come to accept that Kath and I are not well-behaved, god-fearing churchgoers, and just tells us to quiet down when we get a little noisy. Mom wouldn't tolerate it, but that's why we don't even think about going to church with her. Since she's the priest of her own church now, we'd embarass her probably. Chances are, after today's dazzling performance, I won't have to go again for at least a month or so, if at all again during the summer. This is one of the bonuses of mom having moved out of the house.
I'd like to hope that someday, my mom will accept our religious differences and just love us anyway, but I know in the back of her head she'll always be thinking that we're going to burn in hell. She thinks that about the Jews, after all. Oh well, it doesn't worry me, just her.
Straight from church to work. Damn, I'm so tired.