My Inner Hooker

Today I had a meeting with the Priest at our church. Both Ace and Deuce were being interviewed to see if they are ready to take their First Communion. I was a bit nervous, to say the least.

The last time I met with this Priest, well, it didn't go so well. There was yelling, screaming, and accusations of being a "bad Catholic" in addition to accusations of being a "Priest who is as welcoming as gonorrhea." Yes, we all know that I will likely end up in hell (even though I regularly ask for forgiveness.) But, having a yelling match with the leader of our church is a surefire way to get the express train. (In my defense, this Priest was forced to take anger management classes. So, naturally, it wasn't all my fault.) However, I am probably one of the few people willing to take on a Priest in full on bout of mud-slinging. (And I'm not afraid to take on football coaches either, but I'll explain that in another post.)

My husband felt it best to accompany me today. All four of us entered the rectory and announced that we were here for our First Communion interviews. Sister Whitehair kindly looked at her schedule and then quickly looked right up at me and said "Oh, you are the so-and-so family. Yes, we have been expecting you." So, um, clearly she was aware of my last, um, meeting.

I promised my husband I would be on my best behavior. I dressed nicely, had the boys looking their best, and I even took a Xanax so I would lose my stabby rage that sometimes gets the best of me.

What I didn't expect was that my supercute front-closing bra would unhook itself the minute we stepped inside his office. Yes folks, only I could have my Girls Go Wild while I am trying to be on my best behavior for our PRIEST. And since my girls are such a prominent feature, the fact that they were on the loose is not something I could easily hide. While we were sitting, I was able to do the arm cross maneuver. But, when we had to get up to leave and shake hands, well, it wasn't pretty.

I tried to keep one arm across my chest while shaking hands with the other arm. However, this maneuver actually made me push my girlies right up into my neck. It was like they were caged animals trying to escape. Not the impression I was trying to make.

We shook hands, and I sighed in relief, thinking I was now in the clear. And that is when I noticed my crutches leaning by the door. Yes, braless Jen had to CRUTCH her way out of the Priest's office with her loosey goosies blowing in the wind. (The term "Shake-elies" as my son refers to them was extremely appropriate here.)

I will leave the rest to your imagination. The good news? The boys were both accepted as candidates for their First Communion. The bad news? I will now resort to duct tape for any future church meetings.