Last year, I wrote about how Emily always wanted an Easter bunny. Or any fluffy bunny. And how, as usual, our shenanigans included torturing our little Chihuahua by way of dressing him up for our own amusement.
In our defense, Douggy-Woggy has the mug of a tortured soul, with or sans accoutrements. Unless he’s in a sun-coma/raptured state. In which case he still looks like he’s in agony, truth be told, even though it’s his favorite thing to do. Okay, that’s a cop-out. We are not fit to be dog-owners. Somebody report us, please.
This year, I’m getting pangs of religiosity. Not faith, mind you, that’s always there. And as always, I’m afraid I must insist that regularly going to church, and keeping up with the religious pomp and circumstance, does not being pious equate (or even spiritual for that matter). I know people who recite prayers in long, uninterrupted litanies but have no idea what they’re saying, who go to church every Sunday but it’s mostly for show, and are the meanest sons of bitches around. So much for loving thy neighbor…
This year, I’m planning on getting all holy for the Holy Week. Palm Sunday, Good Thursday, Good Friday, Good Saturday, Good Whatever, I’m down for all of them. Maybe it’s because Emily’s going through her confirmation and is getting ready for her First Communion this year; maybe I want to walk the walk, for her. Maybe I’m feeling a little lost and am in need of some pomp and circumstance to feel a little less so. But I’m doing it.
Easter, bring it!
How about you? How are you handling the faith thing during Passover and Easter this year?