Did anyone pray for a pair of giant shoes?

A surprising lack of chocolate for Easter Sunday (hey, guess what, I've decided it's time to bring some proper punctuation to this bitch).

Got dragged to church this morning, the first of my twice-yearly routine (xmas being the second time, midnight mass). I'm still having issues taking it all seriously. It doesn't help when the sib is giving her usual running commentary.

Christmas 2002 was the 'That 70s Show' inspired routine. We'd spent the previous couple days watching back episodes on Trouble (they seemed to be playing them round the clock), including the xmas ep where 'the gang' put on their xmas pageant, with Kelso wanting to be a space wiseman and all that shit (actually quite funny). So the priest is talking about Baby Jesus (not sure why the b in baby is capitalised, it just feels like it should be) and Fi is just added comments to everything he says, and I'm pissing myself, trying to laugh quietly, while my dad smirks, my mum pretends she doesn't know us and everyone around us frowns.

Or Christmas 2001 when I realised a guy in our church looks exactly - and I mean EXACTLY - like Ned Flanders. Tall, thin, rectangular head, moustache, glasses, religous type. I'd always thought this guy look familiar, but then it suddenly hit me who it was. And I was with Fi and Bell (grown up altogether, like another younger sister); I told them this and we spent the rest of the service reciting one line to each other and crying with laughter.

It's the ep where Bart Simpson has had to wear those corrective shoes, and he's finally allowed to take 'em off, so he kicks them off and they fly through the Flanders' window.

Ned:"Did anyone pray for a pair of giant shoes?"
Rod: (or possibly Todd): "I did!"
Ned: "Okely-dokely!"

Not exactly comic genius written down, but *so* funny when you're bored in church and you can't get over how much someone looks like a cartoon character.

Today's service was a relatively tame affair by the sib's standards; I think it was because we were both half asleep and would rather have been in bed. Just the usual comments - someone doing one of the readings "...and Isaiah said..." Fi: "Isaiah talked shit, didn't he?"

Then we were talking during a hymn over a shared hymnbook and the guy in front of us turned round and gave us a strange look, causing us both to giggle like schoolgirls as we thought he was mad at us. Then he turned back around and gave us a spare hymn book. Eek. He was just being nice.

I don't know what it is about church that turns me back into a ten year old, or why I continue to go when I feel like this. It's just hypocritical.