Talks, both spiritual and not
Last night was 8th grade graduation. It made me think of my 8th grade year and the memories caused me to say my prayers of thanksgiving. That year of bad skin, bad perm, and poor clothing choices are way behind me. I also said a prayer for the graduates. I watch television. I see what is walking around the mall. I listen to what is on the radio. They have four hard years ahead of them, and I pray they stay on a path paved with godly and parental guidance. They are going to need it.
I also got to visit with THE VICAR FROM THE NORTH, who came down and preached the graduation sermonette. Right after church he asked me if I thought it had been short enought. The mere fact that it was called a sermonette in the bulletin would infer that it was going to be a short one, but I assured him that I was not timing him and that he preached a good message. Law? Check. Gospel? Check. Words of encouragement and a charge to lead by example? Check and check. Need to keep my mouth shut about giving The Rev. grief for preaching three part sermons? Check.
After the service The Vic asked me about my plans to get a chihuaha named Tito. I had forgotten than The Vicar's Wife (hi!) reads this blog and so a long discussion ensued about my grief for Minnie Pearl and how I wanted to get a small dog to replace her. I explained to The Vic. that our two cats were really all-purpose, utilitarian cats, good for hunting and gathering, and that our dog was really Aaron's. I needed something cuddly, and a small dog or another kitten would fit the bill. The Vic. agreed and The Rev. immediately protested by acting like it was the betrayal of some brotherhood. It probably was, but like I said before, The Rev.'s response of "We are not getting another animal." is only the opening lines to negotiations.
By the time we got home, he had relented and we even looked at pictures of dogs and cats at the humane society. I want a small dog; he wants a big one. I want a small cat; he thinks all kittens look like bug-eyed space aliens. The Vic., I am sure, was enjoying all of this, but I also know The Vic.'s wife, and I am sure the conversation we had over dinner sounded eerily familiar to him. He protested about not wanting a dog and the one they got is absolutely adorable. I referred both The. Rev. and The. Vic. to a line I just read in a magazine about a man who offers to train women. "You can train women to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants." They both had to agree.
I also got to visit with THE VICAR FROM THE NORTH, who came down and preached the graduation sermonette. Right after church he asked me if I thought it had been short enought. The mere fact that it was called a sermonette in the bulletin would infer that it was going to be a short one, but I assured him that I was not timing him and that he preached a good message. Law? Check. Gospel? Check. Words of encouragement and a charge to lead by example? Check and check. Need to keep my mouth shut about giving The Rev. grief for preaching three part sermons? Check.
After the service The Vic asked me about my plans to get a chihuaha named Tito. I had forgotten than The Vicar's Wife (hi!) reads this blog and so a long discussion ensued about my grief for Minnie Pearl and how I wanted to get a small dog to replace her. I explained to The Vic. that our two cats were really all-purpose, utilitarian cats, good for hunting and gathering, and that our dog was really Aaron's. I needed something cuddly, and a small dog or another kitten would fit the bill. The Vic. agreed and The Rev. immediately protested by acting like it was the betrayal of some brotherhood. It probably was, but like I said before, The Rev.'s response of "We are not getting another animal." is only the opening lines to negotiations.
By the time we got home, he had relented and we even looked at pictures of dogs and cats at the humane society. I want a small dog; he wants a big one. I want a small cat; he thinks all kittens look like bug-eyed space aliens. The Vic., I am sure, was enjoying all of this, but I also know The Vic.'s wife, and I am sure the conversation we had over dinner sounded eerily familiar to him. He protested about not wanting a dog and the one they got is absolutely adorable. I referred both The. Rev. and The. Vic. to a line I just read in a magazine about a man who offers to train women. "You can train women to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants." They both had to agree.
posted by pastorschick at
8:50 AM
1 Comments:
I'm VERY behind on my blog readings, but I found out the only way to get a dog when the Rev/Vic. say no, is to just go behind their back and adopt the cutest dog you can find so they won't be angry and will later on down the road say "See, I told you it was a good idea to get a dog. What would you do without me?" It worked for me at least! We NEED to catch up. I'm off all week if you are free while the men are gone, or even while they are home.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home