Holinesser Than Thou: My Ability to Offend Everyone

Look! There were nuns at Woodstock!

I’m not sure where my whole life went horribly wrong, but somehow I ended up living in Alabama and it was absolutely not on purpose. The craziest thing—aside from the wide variety of road kill (seriously, National Geographic should do a special)—is that my husband has so many family members, nay, kinfolks, that I still haven’t met them all in the seventeen years that we’ve been together.

At the last family reunion-slash-bridal-shower-slash-swap-meet we attended, I got to meet the Holiness side of the family. Those of you from this part of the country automatically knew what I was talking about, but those of you newcomers are picturing a papal procession. No, holiness is a catch-all term here in the South for anyone who looks like the Duggar family…long hair, no make-up, requisite denim skirt. I don’t have a clue what the men are supposed to be hatefully stereotyped with, I think they’re supposed to blend in with society so they can covertly spread their message to the masses. I could be wrong on that last part.

(IMPORTANT NOTE: I happen to know some very lovely, intelligent people who fall into the above category and since they read my blog I would like to take this opportunity to point out how non-weird and non-irritating they are. Thanks for reading, y’all! But these holiness relatives were not those people.)

These technicality relatives like to hide out at their compound so they don’t get corrupted by the backsliders they happen to be genetically linked to. They mean us. In my case, they’re not even genetically mine, they’re only legally linked to me, so they were fair game for the picnic that is my sense of humor.

THEM: And where do you go to church?

US (I mean, me): Why?

THEM: We would just like to know where you worship. (They can use the royal “we,” why can’t I?)

US: Worship? Worship what?

THEM: (sharp collective intake of breath)

US: I’m completely kidding! I knew what you meant. But why do you need to know where I worship while we’re in line for more potato salad?

THEM: We were just wondering if you’re our kind of people.

US: It’s a little late to worry about that. I’m already having sex with your cousin.

THEM: That’s not polite to talk about in a church.

US: We’re in the church gym, doesn’t that give me some wiggle room?

THEM: You must not go to church.

US: Fine. I’m Catholic.

THEM: (blank stare until finally one of the junior members of the gaggle spoke up) What’s that?

US: Oh, it’s this crazy offshoot religion where we have to dress a certain way and live away from society.

THEM: (pause, narrowing of the eyes) Like those Amish folks?

US: Yeah. Totally like those other people and not anyone we actually know.

THEM: But what do those Catholics actually believe?

US: Well, ya know. Stuff. Human sacrifice, baby eating, things like that. It’s kind of like Satanism.

THEM: (whispers behind hands) Isn’t Rick Santorum a Catholic?

US: WHY do people have to keep bringing that up?

THEM: Don’t y’all believe that abortion is a sin?

US: So is running a stop sign. Look it up.

THEM: Don’t y’all believe that the gays are gonna burn?

US: Don’t y’all believe in arranged child marriage and obliterating all references to evolution?

THEM: Pleasure to meet you.

Why do people always walk away from me backwards? Do I leave them feeling like they really shouldn’t give me a clean shot at their spines? Good…

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The Spite Baby

This kid is just scary looking. And expensive looking. There's no way she has 20/20 vision with those eyes.

I try really hard not to discuss politics on this blog because I simply don’t know what I’m talking about. I try to also leave religion out of it, too, but that’s just because I know full-well that my religion is better than your religion, so there’s no need to brag about how awesome my religion is because that would be just rubbing it in your face. (By the way, I’m Catholic. The un-Rick Santorum kind.)

But sometimes there’s something going on in politics that is both so angering that I have to think about it and so confusing that I at least have to read what the internet had to say about it. Apparently, and I could be confused by the facts on this one, we don’t have enough babies in America.

I realize China has grown into a super-human country where they have so many people the borders literally can’t hold them all, and I don’t actually think the government is trying to compete by making our citizens have as many babies as they have in China, but something’s not adding up. Our government is arguing over whether or not my health insurance has to cover birth control, but I don’t think everybody’s thought this through.

Has anyone done the math on a few years’ worth of birth control versus providing health insurance for a baby from its pre-pop-out days all the way through its college graduation? I don’t think they have, so if the government makes me have a baby I’m going to make sure that I give birth to the anti-Christ, just for the fun of it.

I don’t mean that I’m going to be neglectful or teach the child cruelty. I mean, it is actually going to BE Rosemary’s Baby. I don’t really know how I’m going to bring that to pass just yet, but if anyone can give birth to a medically evil human being, I can.

More importantly, this baby is going to be the most expensive child my health insurance company has ever met. It will have every three month check-up. I will take it to the emergency room for every sniffle and fever higher than 98 degrees. I will have it tested for every disease and medical condition known to medical science. I’ll have it tested for diseases that don’t even exist in this country, and a few diseases that only occur in animals. The child will have orthodontia, glasses, and corrective shoes (I realize that will make my child a target for bullying at school, but he’ll be okay once he figures out that he’s the anti-Christ.). I will buy the prescription-only children’s vitamins instead of Flintstones. Did you know you can even get a prescription for WATER? Yes, my child will drink only the Rx water and the doctor who wrote the prescription and the pharmacy who sold it to me will all send their bills to my health insurance provider.

It would be a whole lot cheaper if the health insurance providers just shut up and covered my documented medical condition: hyperfertility, or the ability to get pregnant while doing normal activity (well, okay, normal grown up activity…and define “normal.”). The providers should be required to cover the treatment because it’s a really real medical condition. After all, you just read about it on the internet.