Sanctimoniously Sacrilegious

Chaos.

Calamity.

Arguing, brawling, and squabbling.

All the way to church.

That’s right.

Church.

Once upon a time, my brother and I used to create the most unholy mayhem.

Frequently.

Even at church.

Especially at church.

Evidently, our less than role model type conduct was downright mortifying.

The car wouldn’t even be fully backed out the driveway before we’d initialize our ritualistic slugfest.

Usually, it would begin with one of us discretely cracking an Etch-a-Sketch over the other one’s head.

And things would only get more exciting once we’d exit the confines of the vehicle.

While everyone around us would break into hymns, we’d provide the accompanying music-

Armpit farts.

Not the time or place?

You don’t say.

About to receive Communion?

Good time to get rumbling!

Donation money basket going around?

Decisions, decisions.

Confession time was always particularly challenging.

With plenty to confess, we’d have to keep it vague.

So I’d simply just apologize for fighting with my brother.

But there were definitely things left unsaid.

Then we’d get back to engaging in a few rounds of bloody knuckles, sometimes even throwing in a headlock or two.

We were easily distracted and equally as easily amused.

What can I say?

We were hands-on type of kids.

In the rare moments of sitting still, we’d pray.

Pray for service to end so we could take our free-for-all out to the parking lot.

It’s fair to say we were embarrassing to be around, as we failed to exemplify any holy qualities, in any public setting.

On the positive side, we managed to obey The Ten Commandments.

Mostly.

I mean, at least the most important one-

Thou shall not kill.

And we didn’t kill anyone.

Surely, that counted for something.

But then again…

We were siblings, after all, so there was never a guarantee that wouldn’t change at any moment.

Ultimately, my parents probably considered themselves lucky…

Even if only for the fact that my brother and I never once attempted to bathe or swim in the tub of holy water during Mass.

Hallelujah!

~Hey friends! I’ve got a favor to ask of you. I just set up a Facebook account for Comically Quirky! And I’m on Twitter, too. Please drop by and follow me, and I’ll follow you back! You can leave your links in the comments. Thanks a million, and have an awesome weekend!~

Naughty, nice, and everything in between...

Naughty, nice, and everything in between…

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36 thoughts on “Sanctimoniously Sacrilegious

  1. Sounds like my brother and me. The quarter Mom gave each of us for the collection basket went to the candy store cash register. We sat on the steps of the church sometimes until the service ended. Once I threw a hammer at him and a rock. He got on my nerves, 🙂 I have added you to Twitter and am heading off to like your Facebook page. ❤ you!

    Liked by 1 person

    • LOL!!!!!!!

      I’m a highly visual person, and your comment painted such an incredibly funny picture in my mind. I could easily imagine my brother and me in that position.

      Thank you for the follow! ❤ And thank you for giving me the biggest laugh of the day! What a great way to kick of the week. 😀

      Liked by 1 person

  2. This is a fun post. As a kid, I remember praying for the service to end. I couldn’t imagine there was any other prayer to pray. Considering where I was seated. Trapped on a hard pew between two parents who frowned on wiggling. How did we survive?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hmmmm…. maybe the reason we were raised as heathens was because there were simply too many of us. I mean, imagine trying to take a boy and four younger sisters to church every week. An eternity in Hell suddenly no longer looks like a bad alternative….

    Like

  4. Snap – on route to Sunday school all be it a non Catholic affair. My brother deliberately landing on each other when the car turned corners. In the days before seat belt laws.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Haha! I remember getting in so much trouble for fighting with my sister in church, too. We haven’t been in a few years, but when we took LM when he was about 3 for a candlelit service on Christmas Eve, he did his part to embarrass us by blowing out people’s candles!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Great post. Brings back memories of my three siblings and I being a mischievous bunch. We spent most of our time giggling and teasing each other and when our dad would glance our way, we would straighten up, but then back to our ways. Good times!! Ha.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Oh my! If I had made armpit farts in church, I would have been disowned and left there. But kids will be kids. I do remember swinging my legs and kicking the seat in front of me, drawing on the Missalettes, singing wrong words to hymns, etc. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Too funny!
    Well….I remember going ballistic if we didn’t go to Mass at a certain time because that was when the guy I liked in 7th grade and his family went…Ahem…Since they kindof took over a certain pew because it fit their large family, I could always peek and see what he was up to during Mass almost anywhere we would sit! The nuns all thought I was pretty pious…oh well!
    🙂

    Like

  9. LOL! This is exactly why my mom decided to not raise me and my sister as church-goers. She said she spent the entire service counting how many people were picking theirs noses, surreptitiously pinching/poking her brother, pulling at the stiff collar of her “church shirt”, mentally counting down the minutes until it was over. She said she just couldn’t put us through that torture!

    Liked by 1 person

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