You Can Dress Him Up, But You Can't Take Him Out

Last Sunday, the family Rama filed into an empty church pew and assumed the staggered parent/child/parent/child formation that has a proven track record of preventing child-on-child violence and disorderly conduct during Holy Mass. A few minutes later, a family with eight children arrived and sat down two rows ahead.

The people around them shifted uncomfortably.

The Von Trapps, who ranged in age from about one month to twelve years, were remarkably well behaved, but there were eight of them. About halfway through the service, the toddler contingent began banging sippy cups, draping themselves in various positions over the pews, and trying to engage the parishioners around them in lively conversation.

It was bound to happen - people started giving each other The Look.

Meanwhile, P-Dawg and I stood smugly behind them while J-dog and V-meister sat quietly leafing through their hymnals. Our compact and perfectly gender balanced family of four had managed to make it halfway through Mass without making a spectacle of ourselves, thanks in large part to the Natural Family Planners.

And then, in the middle of a quiet moment of church-wide reflection during which you could hear a pin drop, the little J-dog turned to me and announced :

"Mama! My PENIS is CHOKING!"


"WUT?"