Heathens

I live with a bunch of heathens. And clearly we need some more bible thumpin' going on over here at blither blather headquarters (as in the up-side-de-head-kind).

Case in point:
The preacher's kid comes to spend the night. And since big kid is our resident Puritan & Jesus freak-this is no real surprise. But clearly this does not bode well for the rest of us who are prone to potty language and low brow humor and poor taste in TV... Honestly, I'm just worried about potentially flashing the poor kid as I lounge around my house in my granny gown and ol' bathrobe-God forbid. But lil brother who's trying to win points (& attention) from the older crowd gives them a piece of advice: "Hey! It's Saturday night! But don't tell mom cause she'll make us go to church if she remembers tomorrow's Sunday!" Great...just great, lil brother...please announce to the world our slovenly attendance record. Next morning Mr B is getting ready for church and grumbling: "No more having the preacher's kid over on a Saturday night. Now we gotta go...!"

Trust me: Mr B & lil brother were exactly where they needed to be. God sure does work in mysterious ways...