Without Me, There'd Be Mo' Morons

Two weeks ago, my wife took my son to church while I stayed home with wild Princess C-Nut.

Later that evening, she confessed what had transpired.

Apparently, during the homily/sermon, at one point the priest said, "Okay, now bring all the children up to the altar...."

My wife, paying attention for the moment anyway, picked up our 4.65 year old son and approached the altar. You see, the kids join the priest up on the altar often at our church's family masses. So in stepping to the front, my wife was sort of gliding on auto-pilot.

The only problem was....this was a baptismal mass!!!

Furthermore, my wife didn't catch her mistake.

She stood up there, unaware that the *kids* next to her were newborns in Christening gowns, surrounded by well-clad parents and godparents.

Mrs. C-Nut said that at one point the priest stopped and looked at her funny....

How long did she make a spectacle of herself in front of the entire parish?

That's a good, painful question that remains precisely unanswered. But, does it really even matter. She obviously stayed up there WAAAAAY TOO LONG!

It suffices to say that she was embarrassed as all hell; and that she didn't feel like returning to the scene this past Sunday.

She was pissed too. My wife exclaimed, "See, this is what I get for *listening*..."

But was she really?

Me, as a fail-safe mechanism, I'd never be the first one up. Everyone knows that pioneers either get slaughtered by Indians....or they get trampled by the settlers behind them.

My wife is simply lost when I'm not around - not unlike Taylor when I take a break from blogging.

Seriously though, ten years ago in Brooklyn, Mrs C-Nut once padlocked the super for her mom's building in the basement. Why? Because the staggering Moron asked her to.

Then later on that night he called the police saying he was trapped!

We were eating dinner at the White Dog Cafe in Philadelphia when she confessed that one. And it may have indeed set our future marriage back a year or two.