We go to the Baptist church down the street to pick up race packets.
I’ve been trying to talk Mo into going there for years. I was raised a Southern Baptist in a former life, and Mo’s grandparents were elders in the Baptist church. Slam dunk, no?
But Mo has always shied away from it, worried about the ultra-conservative stance of Southern Baptists. I reason that you don’t have to agree with everything in the doctrine. You can refuse to accept the intolerance of gay marriage while at the same time embracing Hot Dog Day on the Fourth of July, no?
Now, here we are. The people couldn’t be nicer. The same white-haired lady at the front desk that I left behind in San Angelo. The same fitness center I was banned from for inadvertently launching the F word during a racquetball game with David Young. The same nice people registering us for the race. (yes, we’re paying 25 bucks each to run a 5k on the same route I run everyday anyhow. don’t judge.)
Mo finds out she can use the treadmills there for a dollar even if we aren’t members. But after 15 minutes in their little activity center, she suddenly seems open to the possibility of joining.
What was it? The people? The church? A Sign From God?
When we’re back at the car, Mo tells me why she’s so excited about the church.
“They have a foosball table,” she exclaims.
The lord works in mysterious ways …
I can see you two approaching the table for the first time, eager to compete in a fierce battle of flying pucks and taunts.
“Let’s f@cking do this.”
“Leave? Why should we… ooohhhhhhh.”
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that’s the good thing about air hockey. “Puck puck puckity puck!!!!!!!!” is an ode to the game rather than a series of curse words. At least in the King James translation.
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You can do a lot of things while embracing Hot Dog Day on the Fourth of July.
I posted this on Facebook so you missed it. Perfect for Bapstist cussin.
http://theweek.com/article/index/241847/10-old-fashioned-swears-to-spice-up-your-cussin
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when i was a teen at church camp (like Math Camp except you get to make out at night), the curse word of choice was “blue jay.” still makes me blush.
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I alw/ays take 2 Baptists with me Fishing,that way my beer is safe. Happy Easter.
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dang. gotta add that to my list of grievances.
happy Easter to you and our Peep pal!
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There are a lot more moderate Baptists out there now than there used to be. Heck, I was a deacon who openly brewed his own beer. You know…the whole priesthood of the believer thing.
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