This may be one of my favorite blogs of all time. Mostly bcs it’s a true story and I am permanently damaged reliving it each year lol. And I’m lazy…reposting is everything! Enjoy!
A CRACK IN THE EGGS…
** Repost from back in the day…***
If little Johnny wakes up on Easter Sunday to a chocolate bunny that’s missing certain critical appendages, what can one assume from this? Mommy is a Sister in Fat I suspect! Yes, I fear many SIF children wake up on Easter Sunday to find Cadbury Eggs over easy and Peeps minus one of their Peeps! It’s one of the worst in a series of “Fat Girl Holiday’s” and the seriousness of the occasion shouldn’t be overlooked. Where was Daddy whilst Mommy stayed up until 2am “hiding Easter baskets?” Surely he must have smelled her chocolate peanut butter breath when she climbed into bed after her big debut as Peter the “Crack” Rabbit! Nope. Daddy didn’t hear the premature cracking of the eggs or rabbits screaming as their ears were being sucked into the jaws of a sugar crazed mother drooling on her footed pajamas. Nope. Instead, Daddy broke SIF rule #4567…never trust a “crack” addict to play drug dealer. Lesson learned.
My father often made the same mistake over the years. Little did he know, every day was “Easter” in my top desk drawer. That’s where mother hid the peanut M&M’s and whatever else she could fit in between my algebra and history books. And they wondered why I wasn’t the smartest egg in the basket? Mommy gave me crack Daddy. **pause and process** In an attempt to repent for said crimes, Mommy always took us to church on Easter Sunday. We were Catholic and guilt was met with open arms in the Catholic church. When I say “we” were Catholic I may not be able to include myself…**pause for confession**…”Forgive me Father for I have sinned (and continue to do so daily)it’s been 36 years since my last confession. Here’s the problem: I think I may not exactly be Catholic based on one incident in particular. Ummm…yeah… I sort of “took” first communion in the sense that one “takes” it but I didn’t exactly “take it” per say. Let me break it down for you father: I love me some bread but unleavened aint my thing. I’m quite sure If Jesus were to rise again he’d switch to Ciabatta or French. Anyway, I may have taken the body of Christ upon making my first communion but I sorta wiped it under the first pew…right side. **sign of cross** I didn’t mean to but it could have used some butter or olive oil and well… I couldn’t seem to get it down. It kept sticking to the roof of my mouth. Mother taught me not to chew with my mouth open and my tongue couldn’t pry the unleavened disc away from the retainer that I was forced to wear in an effort to straighten the teeth that I’m confident I inherited from George Washington… So I reached in, peeled it off with my fingers, pretended to swallow and discretely wiped it under the pew. No one noticed a thing. I looked so cute and innocent in the white dress I borrowed from my cousin that no one saw the pasty body of Christ dangling underneath my butt. I guess the Catholic guilt thing never really worked on me bcs I smiled for the pictures and pretended to be one of the chosen ones. Forgive me Father.”Wheeew! A weight has been lifted. I do believe that to be the only time in my life that I have walked away from food…willingly.
Even back then I could spot a SIF from miles away…even in church. There was this one lady who always sat right up front, took up 2 spots in the pew and carried a large purse. All signs that she was a SIF. Why you ask? Gotta be closest to the bread and wine at church? Is your big ass holdin up seats from other sinners? You got snacks in your over sized purse and crumbs to prove it?….you a SIF! Anyway, I know for a fact that she took at least two bodies of Christ every Sunday! Now I’m all for over eating and known for trying two of everything but never have I gone so far as to take more than my fair share of the body of Christ! SIF, we must pray for her. Now that I am older and of independent mind, I have chosen a church that better suits my needs. They offer unlimited sourdough and grape juice sans guilt! Thank you Jesus! I think we have learned an important lesson here. If you give a SIF an inch she’ll gain an inch! How did the significance of Easter go from the Resurrection of Christ to Cadbury Eggs and Peeps? I dare say the SIF are to blame! Give us a holiday, we’ll give you a reason to hide food and binge eat! Thanks Easter Bunny!