The Gitchiest Christmas Ever

It was a typical Christmas Eve Mass.    Everyone was there:  Mom, Dad, Sis, me, and my brother Spalpeen.  Like all the other families there, it was our mandatory “must-attend” church session of the year.  

It started out as a typical Catholic Mass.  Stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down.  A letter of St. Paul to the Emphysemans.   Stand up, sit down.   Lord I am not worthy to receive you, etc. etc.  

We knew the routine.   You can set your watch to a Catholic Mass. 

My brother and I kept glancing at each other, bored.  He had that gleam in his eye, like he was up to mischief.   I started to smile.  My Dad sensed this and “shushed” us.

More standing up.  Sitting down.   Another reading, this time from St. Peter to the Crustaceans or something.    I was bored.  Was it time to go home yet?

But since this was Christmas Eve, a Very Special Day, the Mass was slightly different.   The priest asked all the young children to come up to the altar, next to the creche, and he invited them to sing Christmas Carols to the Little Baby Jesus.

My brother and I were fortunately far too old for this, and we were spared this ordeal.   But all the little magotty toddlers and five-year olds started to shuffle up to the front, where the priest welcomed them.

My God.  Were they SERIOUS?   Were they actually going to make us listen to the kids SING?   

Picture the scenario.   Me and my brother, both bored to tears. With everyone else so serious and holy (after all, it was Christ’s birth).   

And now, they take a bunch of snot-nosed kids we don’t even know…who were going to act cute and start singing to the congregation.

If they were trying to deliberately set us up for the Mother of All Giggle Fits…they couldn’t have planned it any better..

I was already starting to laugh.  I glanced sideways, and saw my brother staring at me.  He lifted his eyebrow ever so slightly.    He knew that would get me going.

(Shut up, Spalpeen, you’re going to make me laugh..shut up..shut up…SHUT UP!)

“SHHH!!!”  warmed my Dad.

“Pffffffft…!”, I snickered into my sleeve.   I refused to look at Spalpeen.  

I knew it was a matter of time before I made a complete jack-ass of myself.  But like a run-away train ready to jump the tracks, it was inevitable.  I couldn’t help  it. 

Now the overhead projector was turned on, displaying the lyrics of the song that would be sung.  It was the Huron Christmas Carol:  some dumb story about the Indians in the forest meeting baby Jesus.

(Which, by the way, I didn’t think would have ever ACTUALLY happened, but that was besides the point). 

The rug-rats then started to sing:

Twas in the moon of winter-time,
When all the birds had fled,

(Pfft!  Snicker!) 

Oh.  My.  God. 

Can this be any more LAME?

I’m laughing through my nose…making snorting sounds, trying to keep it inside.   I look over at Spalpeen, and he’s not doing much better.   Then the kids start singing the 2nd verse:

That mighty Gitchi-Manitou
Sent angel-choirs instead


This is were I totally lost it.

I mean, COME ON!!!



What the HELL is a GITCHI MANITOU?  

That had to be the STUPIDEST thing I’d ever heard!    

(Snort..Hmmph!  Hahahah!..Giggle!)

And the kids…the kids (hee! hee! hee!  My God!…)  They were so EARNEST as they were singing this…!  And the adults are eating this all up…look at them…they’re actually ENJOYING this!  

(HAHAHAH!).  At this point, I was shaking and shuddering with convulsions of laughter….while still trying to hold it in and keep my brain from exploding.  Tears streamed down my face.     My brother was doing exactly the same.    

Every other parishioners within 20 feet of us looked at us, puzzled. Sis pretended we didn’t exist.   Mom rolled her eyes, and seemed resigned to accept the fact that her two sons were retarded.

But Dad.

Oh, poor Dad.  

He was LIVID.   He was trembling with rage, he was so embarrassed.  His lips were clenched so tight, they were turning purple. 

You know how in cartoons how someone literally blows their top?   (…where the scalp detaches itself from the head and does flips before it lands back, intact?)

Well, Dad came THAT close to doing that, in real life. 

“SSHHHH!”  he glared at us.  

His blazing eyes and his body language made it clear…we were to stop misbehaving.   And…RIGHT NOW…!!!

Which, as you can guess, only made us laugh harder. 

No disrespect to Dad, but we were beyond help, at this point.   

Forbidden Laughter is the best kind.  This is the laughter you just want to let out when you’re not supposed to.   Like in public places, job interview, funerals, …and, in this case, CHURCH.  

And forbidden laughter can’t be stopped…it has to be allowed to run its course.

I don’t know how long my conniption fit went on.   I totally forgot the stupid Christmas Carol (and any of the other Carols they sung after that).   

Every time I though I was done, all I had to do was look at my brother and (PPPPFFF! MMMPPH!!) we’d both get hysterical again.   We tag-teamed.  One would stop…and the other one would start. 

Finally, after what seemed like the longest time…we regained a semblance of self-control.   The occasional giggle would still escape, but we were done.   Thank God it was over.  And a good thing, too, as we were approaching the serious part of the mass.

And then, that’s when Spalpeen looked at me….

(Shut up…shut up…shut up….Don’t say anything…shut UP…HMmm  PFfff…on no…he’s going to say something…!)

“The Gitchi Manitou’s gonna get you”.

Oh, no.  You bastard…!  You DIDN’T JUST SAY THAT    (Snicker..giggle..PFFFFT…SNORT!  HHMMPH!! HAHAHAH!)

Right back to square one.  I’m a basket case again, in a matter of seconds. 

And it took even longer for me to calm down this 2nd time around.  

Dad had burst several blood vessels at this point.   And I was probalby going to Hell for behaving this way.  But I was unstoppable.

Forbidden Laughter is a harsh mistress.   She will not let you go until she decides you’re done.   

You’d think Spalpeens’ last attempt at shit-disturbing would have been enough. 

But NOOOoooooooo.

He spent the entire mass  doing just this…whispering quietly to me, setting me off again and again.  Each time by merely uttering “Gitchi Manitou…”.




Not to mention: 




When it was FINALLY over, and we walked home, suffice to say Spalpeen and I both got an earful from Dad.

We still talk about it today, 16 years later.

You see, kids will be kids.

Even if the “kids” were into their early/mid twenties at the time.



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47 Comments on “The Gitchiest Christmas Ever”

  1. Friar, you crack me up! I can totally relate! Picture my mom (who was as much the nut/kid as the rest of us), my two brothers, and me (the oldest at 23) sitting with the director in the conference room at a funeral home, “making arrangements” for my dad. I don’t remember which of us started it, but somebody said, “You know if Dad were here he’d be asking what kind of discount he could get if he dug the hole himself.” That set us off. “How much would it cost to bury him vertically?” “What else could you do with the real estate once you’d purchased it?” We’re actually getting around to the real decisions, but we’re dying (no pun intended) the entire time.

    The funeral director’s attitude didn’t help, either (we’d laugh at him when he stepped out). He was morally offended or something. We looked at him and knew that he was barely containing the desire to explain to us that this was a serious situation…and we all wondered what would have happened had he actually said what he seemed to be thinking.

    On a side note, you appear to be feeling better…or else you fake it well. Good for you!

  2. Friar Says:


    OMG…you and I SO MUCH think alike. 🙂

    I had the EXACT same type of meeting with my family and funeral director, when we made arrangements for my Dad.

    The funeral director told us of the different choices of coffins, and the price, and left us alone in the room to think about it.

    I took a tissue from the box of Kleenex, and tore three holes (two eyes and a mouth). Then I waved it around like a ghost: “OOOooooo…..oooooo…get the more expensive coffin…the more EXPENSIVE one….”

    My entire family looked at me..and burst out laughing. For 2 seconds, we managed to forget what was otherwise the most difficult day of our lives.

    Forbidden Laughter. You gotta love it.

    On a side note: I wasn’t feeling any better yesterday. Still grumpy. I just disguised behind my writing.

  3. Steph Says:

    I love this story. You mentioned it before but told it even better this time around! I have funny mass stories, too, like when at Easter Vigil my sister lit a woman’s hair on fire with her candle…

    But we really were kids then.

    I’m not feeling much better today, either. Everything is too hard lately. Your posts do make me feel better, though. Thanks!

  4. Friar Says:


    Yeah, I mentionned it on Karen’s blog (I think). But I felt the story deserved to be told in more detail.

    I’m not feeling too much better today either…but I sure had fun writing this post.

    Like your mass when the womans hair caught fire, it will be a church even that will never be forgotten! 🙂

  5. Ellen Wilson Says:

    Gitchi Manitou. Very good.

    I remember going to the Catholic church with my grandma. Actually, I kind of miss it once in a while. I couldn’t go every week though. My dad says I have a place to go after I die.

    Everything seems very funny in church. Repressed humor that just spills over into everything,

    I like your stories.

    @Steph & Friar – What’s wrong with you guys? Are you sick?

    @Steph – Whrere is your story about the woman’s hair catching on fire?

  6. Friar Says:


    Awww…I was just grumpy yesterday (see Brett’s Blog). I gave myself a Time Out..and I’m all better now

    As for Catholic Mass…yep. It’s the perfect atmosphere for giggle fits and boys misbehaving.

    You should have seen me as an altar boy…I couldn’t ever keep a straight face…!!

    I’m going to burn in Hell. I just know it.

  7. @ Friar – I feel like I may have found my soul-mate! Just a few final questions:
    Favorite Trek Series?
    Human or Cylon?
    Forest or beach?
    Oh, wait…wrong web site…sorry. 🙂
    Seriously, though, I can totally picture your ghost — and all the people who would have been aghast (who actually make it even funnier). We needed all the laughs we could get after the fiasco surrounding my dad’s death…but that’s a whole other funny story.

    @Steph – The hair: accident, on purpose, or accidentally on purpose? Inquiring minds want to know. It’s okay to tell; I’m sure it’s much too late for legal action in any case. 🙂

  8. wendikelly Says:

    Oh my gosh,
    If I would have moved a single muscle in church as a child my life would have ended RIGHT…THERE…ON..THE…SPOT…

    My Father personally knew the angels who could turn you into a pillar of salt. We didn’t color, we didn’t scratch our noses, I am not sure we even took a deep breath.

    My funniest church story came long after my oldest daughter was fully grown and came back to visit our church after being away for a long time. She had been going to a church where they all drank out of the communion cup and at our church you dip your wafer in and walk on by. Well she wasn’t paying any attention and when she got up there she just took it out of the poor woman’s hand and had herself a nice long sip.
    The look on the woman’s face was agast and the next two people passed on dipping and walked right on by. . I was laughing so hard I had tears rolling down my face the rest of the service and she hadn’t even realized she did anything wrong. every time she visits church we laugh our heads off, we can’t help it.

  9. @Wendi – My parents weren’t such sticklers, but my grandmother…boy, let me tell you. Had kids not been relegated to the balcony at her church, I’m sure I would not be alive today. I remember one visit when I was about ten. The offering plate came around, but all I had was a $5 bill. Being the practical soul that I was I…wait for it…made change…out of the offering. I had to explain myself to the woman holding the plate – when I thought it was perfectly obvious what I was doing. She stood there, probably flabbergasted, and I just carried on with my counting until I had correct change.

    My teenaged aunts were sitting close enough to die, but too far away to stop me without drawing more attention. I’m sure they told my grandmother. I’m also sure that lived beyond that day because there was a pretty long delay between my action and the time that the aunts could tell her.

  10. Steph Says:

    Oh my god! We could write a whole site of funny church stories! All these made me laugh out loud!!

    @Ellen: yeah, you could say sick, sick in the head. Ahahaha! Naw, I was just grumpy and stuff. (Notice I said was?)

    Also, good suggestion. I probably have a wealth of stories stored up somewhere about growing up Catholic. Some funny, some not. What Catholic doesn’t? Hmmm.

    @Friar: you’re not going to hell, buddy. God’s not against laughter. He likes happy parishioners.

  11. Steph Says:

    @ Wendi: Hahahahahahahahahaha!! I had the same reaction when I first saw people do that in France. It scared the shit out of me. They got so serious and it looked as though we were doing something satanic and creepy…also, we were in a crypt. That’s just where they had daily mass.

  12. Brett Legree Says:

    I think your blog ate my post… oh well. In any case, very entertaining story 🙂

  13. Steph Says:

    @April: accidental. The thing is, as kids we were so in love with this woman’s hair, and I mean we idolized it. It was always so straight and totally SHINY. We always sat in the front row, but the candlelight service was busy and we ended up sitting behind this woman. My sis was sitting on my mom’s lap, candle in hand, unwittingly tipped precariously forward. None of us saw because we were too busy looking behind wondering when the priest was finally going to make his way to the front. Suddenly we smelled burning and the woman did too. She turned around to find the bunch of us giggling uncontrollably at her singed hair. My poor mortified mom!

  14. Friar Says:

    I like the original Trek series. And Cylon (mainly because of the cheesy red light going from left to righ from the original series with Lorne Greene). And I prefer forest.

    (???). I hope these answers don’t dissappoint you. Oh well. Let the Chips fall where they may.

    OMG….I would have DIED with such strict church-going rules (because it would have made me want to laugh even HARDER!)

    Mabye I’m all right and I wont’ go to Hell. Because nobody was struck me down with lighting yet. Despite what the Nun-Bats might think.

    When you come to think of it…with all the seriousness in church…they sure set themselves up for a lot of jokes and funny stories. You can’t write material like that!

    (???). Not sure what you meant here. But I didn’t mean to eat anything. Oh well.

  15. Brett Legree Says:


    Oh, I commented earlier today. I put in a link to a Wikipedia article on your Manitou. Your spam filter probably ate the comment because of the link.

  16. Friar Says:


    I’ll have to look up the Manitou. (My Mom had also sent me a link to the Huron Christmas Carol).



    I still can’t say that word without cracking up! 🙂

  17. wendikelly Says:


    Church in a crypt? were you all witches? I would have started casting spells just to see what would happen.

  18. Kelly Says:


    Like Wendi’s father, my father would have killed me if I behaved like that in church. He would have waited until we were outside, naturally, but then he would have killed me.

    So I read the whole story, waiting to see how hard your ears bled when he clocked you outside the church, and it turns out you were an adult. Wow. You must have missed the fear-of-God discussions in childhood which should have led to being a sullen miserable git in church, thus eliminating any chance of The Giggles.

    The story was funny-disturbing-brought back memories. The punch line was hysterical. I can’t believe you were a grownup doing that. Very well written!



  19. @Steph – Still funny (even though accidental). Here’s a salute to the poor moms (and dads) whose children embarrass them. I’ve told my son that embarrassing “him” is part of my job as a parent.

    @Friar – There are no wrong answers….. Well, “Only losers watch sci-fi,” might tend to put a damper on things. 🙂

  20. Spalpeen?!!! :)))))))
    Uh, uh , that’s made up right?
    This is funny. Forbidden laughter is always best. And so contagious. Well, except for those people who are obviously not as much fun, and parents. But you have to wonder if they were laughing on the inside too. My brother considered it his job to get me to laugh in church.

  21. Friar Says:

    Well…MOST of the time, we were actually quite good in church. (Once, the parish kids even put on a play.,.and I got to play Jesus Christ..if you can believe it!)

    This is probably why we got away with being such idiots on the Night of the Manitou(because my brother and I were adults at the time, and we were visiting home for the holidays). But when I laughed, I felt like I was a 12 years old again!

    I like to watch Sci-Fi, but I also like to watch a lot of other things too,. I enjoy Star Trek, but I’m not a rabid Trekkie fan or a major geek or anything.

    We got Spalpeen from the classic book W.O. Mitchell book “Who has seen the wind”.

    It’s a real word…you can look it up. It means “scamp” or “rascal”.

    We used to call my brother Spalpeen…the definition fit him perfectly.

    (PS. I think my Mom was secretly laughing inside with us…but she’d never admit it)

  22. @Friar – Rabid Lucky Charms would not be part of anyone’s good breakfast…but the commercials would be hilarious. 🙂

  23. Friar Says:


    You noticed my new tag line, eh? Heh heh heh.

    I am the Junk Cereal in the Breakfast Buffet of the Blogosphere!!!!

  24. Brett Legree Says:

    No Brother, you should be the 3 eggs any style, home fries, bacon AND sausage, with a side of toast, of the blogosphere.

  25. Ellen Wilson Says:

    Am I stuck in church? Where the hell am I? I’m sure you wrote this post before. And it’s back!

    Time warp.

    @Brett – Gitchee Gumee is Lake Superior in Ojibway. Manitou is about the spirits. Yeah, I had to look it up again, too. I couldn’t remember the exact way it is used. We have the Manitou Islands in Michigan.

    @Steph – I bet you have some good stories. The hair reference is funny. And so is the crypt one. I definitely get the visuals.

  26. Brett Legree Says:


    I find it very interesting for personal reasons (I have some of it in my bloodlines if I go back far enough, as you know) – and it seems to fit right in somehow with the whole pagan / respect the earth thing. Life in that part of the world must have been simultaneously magical and very difficult for those folks…

  27. Friar Says:

    Ahhh….a Cardiac Breakfast! My favorite.
    (Sounds like the special at the local Splat Creek Diner)


    Dont’ forget Manitoulin Island..and Manitouage.

    Not to mention Gordon Lightfoots’ BEST song:

    The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
    Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
    The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
    When the skies of November turn gloomy

    (Hey…I can occasionally give good quotes too). For I am a Bhona-VISTA 🙂

  28. Steph Says:

    Wendi: not witches, Catholics…but close enough!!

    Just kidding. Seriously, I went to a lot of masses in crypts. So many of the churches in Paris are ancient and massive (and unused so the main area had no seating) so they had daily mass in either the crypt (which was no longer used as that, of course) or a side chapel. Daily mass wasn’t a crowded event as you might imagine. And ACTUALLY, there was one woman who was extremely witchy. She had super huge bulging eyes and wild long hair and she would take the cup and drink so deliberately and sanctimoniously it scared the bejeebus out of me every time. [shudder!] Made my blood run cold.

    @Ellen: I must have a lot of stories? You’re the fourth person to tell me that in three days. Huh. [thinking] 🙂

  29. Friar Says:


    Witches..or NUNS. They’re both the same in my books.

    Ewww. Nuns…..(Shudder)!

  30. Ellen Wilson Says:

    @Brett – It was hard for the Natives when they couldn’t speak their language or practice their religion. If that happens a culture is dismantled. It was a tragic. And still is tragic.

    @Friar – Great song. We used to listen to that in november when we lived on the shores of Gitchee Gumee. I used to think about those sailors then. The Edmund Fitzgerald was only 17 miles away from Paradise, Michigan (I looked it up) when it sank. It was full of iron ore pellets (taconite).

    @Steph – Yes, some great references to Paris cathedrals and long haired women!

    I was at Notre Dame in Paris so I know what you’re talking about. It was full of little alcoves with saints and candles. I remember stopping at a woman saint’s little alcove (can’t remember who it was) surrounded by candles and standing there in contemplation – thinking what it would be like to be this person. I wondered what she was thinking? I turned around and their was this young priest/novitiate person watching me with these sad soulful eyes. I felt kind of guilty then. Like I wasn’t sad and soulful and not Catholic to boot. I suppose I’m what the Catholics called a “lapsed Catholic” because I was baptised and had my first communion and confirmation.

    I like Joan of Arc. At first the Catholics called her a witch and later decided she was a saint.

    I like Paris very much. The Parisians drive like nuts. I don’t understand how they get anywhere. It’s like there are not set lanes in Paris – people weave in and out – on the sidewalk. It’s bizarre! Forget going anywhere on a Friday night, the cars all funnel together.

    There’s all kinds of old churchs in Montreal, too. I can’t get Mike to go into them though.

    I have to say that I too, have not behaved appropriately at a sanctified place. At my Mike’s grandma’s funeral. I didn’t know if I wanted to admit this. It feels like confession.

    You know how it is. The body is in a coffin and everyone is sitting there in the audience staring at it. Well, they started playing this song. It was the hokiest, cheesiest, song I have ever heard. I laughed. Internally. Then I started snorting the laughter back inside – it was just erupting out of my body. I couldn’t help it! People looked at me like I was nuts. I was! It was great! I had lost control!

    Afterwards I felt like an idiot.

    Okay, I get 10 Hail Marys for that. And 50 Our Fathers.

    I mean really, what if someone laughed like that at one of my family member’s funeral? That’s not cool. I didn’t want to be disrespectful, but it just seized me. Maybe it’s the whole tragedy/comedy thing.

    @Friar – I heard in the old days that the nuns really were witches.

  31. Friar Says:


    That’s what I also found absurd about this Gitchee Manitou song. (Which might have also contributed to my laughing fit).

    You can google the Huron Carol..the lyrics are about Jesus in the forest with wrapped in animal furs and all the hunters and elders come to see him.

    AS IFFFF….this is something the Indians would have come up with on their own.

    The song was made in the 1600’s…I have images of the Indians being forced to sing it to placate the Catholic Missionairies!

    By the way, I love Lake Superior. I think I need to visit it again sometimes this summer.

  32. wendikelly Says:

    At my sister’s wedding, her priest had this really low voice that sounded like a mafia guy. So the entire time he was talking at the rehearsal all I could think of was the Godfather movies and at the rehearsal dinner we were joking about it.

    Well, come time for the ceremony and he starts in with his Corleone voice and my sister starts smiling, then smirking and I, her Maid of Honor ,could see that she was barely keeping it together. He gets to the part where he says her name and asks”Do you promise to be faithful? and she burst out laughing and couldn’t stop! The entire congregation started giggling because it was contagous,

    Somehow, her husband still married her and they have stayed married over 20+ years.

  33. Friar Says:


    I LOVE those stories! Especially when the mob mentality takes over and everyone in the room starts laughing!

    And bet you nobody ever forgot that ceremony, either. 🙂

  34. @Friar – I read your story to my boy the other day. Suffice it to say, he giggled hysterically and thoroughly enjoyed the tale. I’m back to comment because we’re watching an episode of “Trick My Truck”. Rhyno, the painter said, “I think it would be cool to paint a ball peen hammer on the side…” and giggles erupted from the other side of the room. “Spalpeen,” he sputtered through the giggles. “Gitchie Manitou.” (more chuckles)

  35. Friar Says:


    You don’t know how much it brightens my day to know that my stories are being read and they make other people laugh. To me, that is a greater accomplishment than anything I’ve achieved at work within the past 6 months.

    Spalpeen…Heh heh heh. That word makes me laugh too! (That’s why my brother and I used to say it for all those years!)

    And to this day, I can’t say “Gitchee Manitou” without smiling.

  36. I love the explanation for Spalpeen, not I have to pick up that book at the library if they have it.
    And what a great new tagline!!!

  37. That would be now, not “not” I am NOT awake yet. Stayed up reading a trashy novel. 🙂

  38. Friar Says:


    So that’s where you’ve been.

    I recommend “Who has seen the Wind”. Classic Canadian literature about growing up in Saskatchewan in the 1930’s.

    If anything, it gave me the word “Spalpeen”!

  39. :)))) Yep, stuck in trashy lit… and loving it. I am kind of tired from work, and I was thinking too much so I grabbed some summer reads. Remember when you gave yourself a time out? I could kind of use one too. Kind of grumpy here.

    Sounds a bit of Jack London. And Spalpeen, cannot beat that.

  40. Late to the party and too hungover to read the comments. (Why is “hungover” not a word according to my Mac?)

    BUT. This is the first time I’ve heard of Gitchi Manitou other than from my Dad! He grew up in a native community and he kept telling me as a child that the gitchmeister was God’s nom de plume and I never believed him. Jesus. If I was still talking to that asshole I’d write and tell him he’s been vindicated.

    Damn. That’s going to mess me up all day.

  41. Friar Says:


    Gitchmeister is a new one on me! (But close enough, eh? ) 🙂

  42. Brett Legree Says:


    You see, the Steve Jobs “Reality Distortion Field” ™ will not allow a Mac user to be “hungover”, so OS X refuses to recognize that as a word…

  43. believer Says:

    The way you said ” A bunch of indians in the woods” shows that you don’t like native americans I think your story about how boring the catholics and there man made rituals are was very funny but you are obviously a racist did you know that natives were killed because the catholic church did not want anyone to know how close to Gitchi-Manitou the natives were Gitchi-Manitou means god and is god who’s dumb now

  44. Friar Says:


    You’re entitled to your opinion. But when you start throwing around harsh words (saying that I’m obviously a “racist” and calling me dumb) I take offense. You don’t know me. You don’t know how I am.

    You’ve totally misunderstood the point of this whole story. It was meant to laugh at a corny Christmas Carol that caused me and my brother to have a giggle fit in church. That’s all it was. This really had nothing to do with poking fun at Native Americans.

    In fact, if you read between the lines, I was deliberately being facetious about the a “bunch of indians” meeting baby Jesus. I was actually taking a shot at the Catholic Church, for imposing it’s religion on the Natives.

    It’s called satire….like most of the other readers have understood.

    For crying out loud…LIGHTEN UP.

  45. svc Says:

    What a great story. I can just picture your brother edging you on, you unable to maintain control and the stern look on your father’s face. I am sure many can relate.

    I recall such scenes with my two sisters in church in the presence of my mother’s family whom were not only devote Catholics but all teachers and ex-nuns!!! We were risking ex-communication or days in purgatory.

  46. […] Long story short…it was the WORST giggle fit I ever had in church. […]

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