Camilo turned eight years old yesterday and he still won't marry Kathryn, so he invited her over for a slumber party instead, a strategy that may work for him now but will get him called all kinds of unpleasant names if he tries it senior year of college. It was Kathryn's first night away from home since we learned of her epilepsy. Normally her mom and I would have gone back and forth for weeks over this kind of thing, so this time I just didn't tell her. And she didn't notice either, so we're golden.
Before Kathryn left, she asked me to water her Jesus seeds.
Exactly ten years ago today, I said "I do" to the daughter of an Oklahoman accountant. Like most such arrangements, it didn't happen without some compromises. For her part, my future wife agreed to never make us move to New Jersey, and I, in turn, promised I wouldn't interfere if she raised our future kids Catholic. So far I'm doing better on my promise than she did, but not by a whole lot.
Sharon knew this would be hard for me, and as such, she set the bar I had to clear at its lowest setting. "You don't have to go to mass with us," she told me at the negotiation table over a decade ago, her god filling up three chairs on her side of the table, me listening on the other side, alone but for the small bottle of whiskey I had set on the table mainly to piss them off before I remembered they were Catholic, "but you can't try to entice the kids to stay home and become godless like you, either." She looked at me. "Like, as we're walking out the door in our Sunday finest, you can't call out 'Bye, guys! I'll just be here eating ice cream until you get back!'."
I would like to say now that I thought long and hard about what it meant to raise kids in a given religion, because for me, organized religion comes in somewhere between NASCAR and Kate Hudson movies in the list of things without which this world would be better off. But really all I was thinking was that if I said yes, then this woman across the table would marry me and so yes it was. Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times yes.
So now in my own house, I am outnumbered by Catholics, four to one. And I'm the one watering the Jesus seeds.
Two weeks ago, Kathryn came home from church with a cup full of soil. Inside were seeds. It was her job to care for these seeds the same way Jesus cares for her, she told me earnestly. And if that's true, then maybe she should start staying home and eating ice cream with me on Sundays, because unless Jesus' dad has nothing better to do than remind Jesus about his commitments, Kathryn's up the creek on this one.
I heard that the 10th anniversary was the Jesus Seed one.
We're celebrating our 10th this summer by having a baby. Jesus was not involved.
Posted by: Nicole | March 21, 2008 at 02:04 PM
Are they seeds for Passion Vine? Tell me they're seeds for Passion Vine!
Anything else would just be lame. If you're gonna grow your own religion related plant, that plant oughtta be related to religion!
So saith this recovering Catholic
Posted by: Hatchet | March 21, 2008 at 02:27 PM
'Uhhhhhhhh--how do I comment on this one?' says the woman who in her ninth year of marriage said 'OK' when her husband, formerly a non-profit worker and teacher, decided to go divinity school on his way to becoming an Episcopal priest.
But yes, we BOTH sometimes cringe at the stuff our boys say after church school...
Posted by: sara | March 21, 2008 at 03:21 PM
Has it been ten years? Where did the time go? Holy crap! I am old.
By the way, don't be so tough on Kate Hudson movies.
Posted by: The Godfather | March 21, 2008 at 05:27 PM
My hubby worships at the house of ice cream and football too. Our son is wanting to convert, but we have similar by-laws, at least until he's older.
Great post.
Posted by: Lisa Milton | March 21, 2008 at 10:51 PM
I somehow assumed that the Jesus seeds were similar to the Chia Turtle. Just a different figurine, that's all.
Posted by: Sue | March 22, 2008 at 07:54 AM
Best post ever!!
YOu DO know that you are going to be smoted for this one though right?
Posted by: Anne Prince | March 22, 2008 at 08:36 AM
As a recovering catholic I have no idea what Jesus seeds are, but am VERY terrified for you at the thought of you being outnumbered by that many catholic women in one house. (Just the mention of my almost 20 years dead grandmother can send me into convulsions because I am "going to hell") Although I must tell you we once had a preist that had us out of mass in under an hour during football season because he worshiped both God and the Packers...he was my favorite priest EVER!!
Posted by: faith | March 22, 2008 at 11:44 AM
Heck, if a kid isn't brought up in an organized religion, what the heck will she rebel against in college?
Posted by: Mauigirl | March 23, 2008 at 12:13 AM
I am SOOOO not offering you free parking for the June NASCAR race. Ladies, have a lovely Easter. Sir, enjoy your ice cream. As a "retired" Catholic, I'm sort-of in both camps.
Posted by: Petunia | March 23, 2008 at 10:26 AM
Maulgirl--We rebel against secular tolerance and liberalism. I listened to a lot of Guns n' Roses and read as much Ayn Rand as I could stand.
Saddest. Rebellion. Ever.
Posted by: Nicole | March 23, 2008 at 11:06 AM
I hear that, unlike recovering alcoholics, recovering Catholics have a lot lower relapse rate, which is why I consider a good Sunday one filled with couch sitting and wine drinking.
Happy Easter, heathen.
Posted by: loren | March 23, 2008 at 11:09 PM
You are so lucky! Sometimes I wish I'd married a church-goin' man so I could lounge about in bed all sunday morning...ALONE...(preferably one of those churches where the service goes on for hours and hours)...
Posted by: geminimama | March 24, 2008 at 08:50 AM
Too bad you didn't experience what we then-Fordham students called the "drive-through" mass (this goes back about 20 years). One of the Sunday services was just 20 minutes long, perfect for those who were cramming for exams (particular at midterms and finals time) and those who'd feel guilty for blowing off mass. And yes, sometimes "those" were one in the same.
Posted by: Diane | March 24, 2008 at 09:38 AM
Glad to see Camillo back on the radar. Happy Easter, you big heathen!
Posted by: Holly | March 24, 2008 at 11:22 AM
And Happy Easter back to all of you, too. I hope your kids ran in circles screaming EGGS! EGGS! until they bonked heads, just like ours did.
Posted by: Brian | March 24, 2008 at 01:14 PM
You big jerk. You'd better not let her Jesus Seeds die.
First a heathen. Then killing your daughter's Jesus Seeds. Wow.
Better get the fire suit on now buddy.
(Did I mention I'm a very sarcastic person?)
Posted by: Jonny's Mommy | March 24, 2008 at 04:52 PM
The Jesus seeds are alive and very much watered, thank you very much. They should be sprouting and healing the sick any day now.
Posted by: Brian | March 24, 2008 at 05:22 PM
You make me laugh! Thanks...
I just wanted to let you know I left an award for you over at my blog!! Happy Spring!!
Angela
Posted by: Angela | March 24, 2008 at 11:27 PM
Your Jesus Seeds are no match for my Satan Sticks (basically any plant I come into contact with which then shrivels and dies).
Posted by: loren | March 25, 2008 at 12:05 AM
haha...jesus seeds. that's funny.
my wife and I were just discussing last night how long we can hide religion from our daughters (the oldest of which is now 4). We don't talk about it, never have, as we are fundamentally oppossed to organized religion. At some point, when her god-fearing little buddies start bringing their parent's beliefs into school with them, she is bound to start asking us questions. Heaven help us!
Posted by: Jeff | March 25, 2008 at 01:27 PM
I married a Catholic, too, but he never takes the kids to mass and he didn't even get them baptized! Where did I go wrong?
Posted by: 3-Martini Jennifer | March 25, 2008 at 09:13 PM
Wait! Catholics don't drink whiskey? Can some one please explain that to our family Priest, who LOVES a nice Scotch Whiskey (on the rocks, please.) Because he doesn't seem to get the fact that a 200 dollar bottle of fine duty free scotch is not a tithe to the Church.
Posted by: JudieDJ | March 29, 2008 at 09:25 PM