September 07, 2010
Wenchie Christ, Superstar
The only thing worse than getting a really bad wedding gift is getting a really bad wedding gift from a tiny, adorable, old lady who means really, really well. I do have a shred of compassion, which makes it difficult to mock the aged. Curse you, Compassion! I'd be that much funnier without you!
I guess because Husband and I used to sing in the church choir, his elderly great aunt or something got use a big, dark, wooden cross for our wall. It's all gothic-looking and easily big enough to crucify a Barbie. I like the shape, but let's be honest -- overt religious symbols don't really jibe with our pinecone-and-milkcan style of decor.
So I hid the cross away and brought it out only on the rare occassion that said aunt visited us. I think it was once, actually. And then she died. And I promptly forgot where the heck I'd hid the crucifix, or that it had even exited in the first place.
Flash forward to last weekend, when I was switching the living room and dining room furniture because our dining room is teesy-weensy, and it's just easier during the holiday season if I can keep the leaves in the dining table and not try to squeeze my whole family into what was probably a walk-in pantry at one time.
That was a really long sentence.
And by the way, as far as I'm concerned, "the holiday season" starts on September 22nd with Billi's birthday and ends on January 7th with The Boy Child's birthday. In between there's The Spare, Egrau, my black dog, ME, The Girl Child, my parent's anniversary, Jeebus, Lola, Brad, and New Year's.
What the hell was I talking about? Ha ha ha ha ha! I actually had to scroll up to see what I'd started this post about! Right, yes, Jeebus' death tree. Got it. Back on track.
So while moving furniture, I cleaned out the drawers of the living room side tables and found -- lo and behold -- the cross! I was about to toss it in the box for Am Vets, but then I thought:
"Wait. I work for a religious organization. Everyone else has all kinds of religious paraphenalia in their cubes -- angels and icons and "Footprints in the Sand"* kind of shit. This. Is. PERFECT! I am so hanging scary, gothic cross in my cube!"
And so I did.
Ironically, of course. Although that's just between you, me, and my other reader (i.e. Mom). I'm hoping that my co-workers will think I am super-pious.
Hey, I don't rest of my laurels! I understand that I have to continuously earn my seat in Hell!
* Holy fucking shit, there is an official "Footprints in the Sand" website!
Comments
OK, maybe this is not what you want to hear......but I don't think it's that scary. It looks like it was made out of some special wood or something. Maybe it's made of OLIVE branch wood like in the Jesus days!
Your cube, however, looks very bland in that corner. I think it's calling out for some Anne Taintor.
Posted by: Diane Schmidt at September 7, 2010 08:44 PM
holy hilarious: Footprints in the Sand Shit! hahhahah... http://www.theonion.com/articles/it-was-then-that-i-carried-you-vs-bullshit-jesus-t,11542/
Posted by: heather at September 8, 2010 09:16 AM
That's a Celtic Cross (Google it). Looks good on the cube wall.
-L.
Posted by: Lori at September 8, 2010 01:04 PM
I'd hang that shit UPSIDE DOWN.
Posted by: Stacey at September 8, 2010 07:45 PM