Sometimes it is clear that my mother and I deserve each other.
She called Sunday night while Jay and I were in the midst of watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Called to wish me a happy Easter.
I said, not really considering my words, "Oh, yeah, but all that really means to me is that the shops are closed."
Yes, I said this to my mother, the CCD teacher, who prays for all her heathen children to return to the Church... I did have the good grace to feel bad about it almost immediately, though.
Maybe if I could get over the feeling that all the holy Jesus days were just pagen celebrations remade by the misogynistic bastards who corrupted the good teachings of the man into a means of control over the masses... Oops... I feel myself slipping into a rant against the Catholic church... must resist.