Wednesday, July 29, 2009

I Hope Jesus has a Sense of Humor

When GirlWonder's fifth-grade teacher informed us that our darling was an excellent student but had a habit of "blurting" out of turn, I wasn't surprised. In fact, I am pretty sure where she gets it.

I harnessed my dubious talents of blurting and having a general lack of decorum at a very young age. In fact, I skipped the third grade due to said talent. "I can't have her in my classroom another day," an exasperated Mrs. P complained to the principal and my mother. "She talks out of turn, blurting out answers. True, they're correct answers, but... I just think perhaps she isn't challenged enough."

Two weeks later, in Mrs. I's fourth-grade classroom, I spent recess inside, listening to her chastise me for correcting her in front of the class. "Perhaps you are, indeed, very familiar with Roman numerals. Perhaps the example that I posted on the board was, in fact, incorrect. However, in the future, you will call it to my attention privately, and not blurt it out in front of the entire class."

Well, sheesh. I was only looking out for the best interests of my fellow students. I mean, what kind of an education could they be expected to receive if I couldn't correct the errors of our teacher?

My high school English teacher actually removed me from the classroom for the duration of my senior year. "I feel that perhaps my class isn't challenging you enough," he sighed. "Perhaps you would benefit from an honors class of sorts... Go write a book. Check in with me at the end of the year." He didn't fool me. He just wanted to remove my loudly-stated ideas from the classroom.

In college, a radical feminist professor threatened to fail me after I suggested - out loud, of course, and at the most improper time - that perhaps, as women, we might get our point across in a more diplomatic manner than shoving our demands down the throats of the entire male population.

True, these individuals held the keys to my educational success in their chalk-dusted hands, but it never really occurred to me to be afraid of ruffling feathers with my lack of propriety.

Jesus, though, is another matter. He holds my very salvation (along with "the whole world") in His hands.

Does Jesus make a note on my report card when I ask, in the middle of a sermon, if the land of milk and honey allows vegans? I'm seriously concerned about this. I mean, the Bible makes it sound like it's all that, but really? Milk and honey? Could it be any more un-vegan? What if I get to the land of milk and honey and find there is, in fact, no soy milk and no stevia? What am I going to do then?

And communion! I've screwed up communion so many times, I can't quite believe that it's not going on my permanent record. Sometimes, when my church forgets to order communion wafers, they substitute butter crackers or shortbread. On more than one occasion, I've piously placed the sacrament in my mouth, only to spit it out when I realized I just put a morsel of butter or egg-filled cookie in my mouth.

"What do I do?" I've asked my pastor. "I spit out the body of Christ! That can't be good, right? I mean, I'm a vegan on principle, and I don't think Jesus wants me to compromise my principles, but He can't be too impressed with me spitting out His body, right?"

I mean, really, what WOULD Jesus do?

Or, more appropriately, what would a vegan Jesus do? "The bread I'll multiply... But the fish? Really kid? Do you have any tempeh? Tofu?"


  1. Lol. I can't believe you corrected your 4th grade teacher! Haha!

  2. Really! She was trying to tell the class that the Roman numerals for "four" were IIII.

    EVERYONE knows it's IV. Duh!

  3. Fortunately for Mrs. I, intelligent and audible little girls aren't in every seat.If they had been, she probably wouldn't have been teaching very long.But that kind of uninhibited wit is unforgettable.

    It's so much funner to ride the waves you make yourself.

  4. Gah! Did you have her for fourth grade, Rosie? Mrs. I? She hated me. Sent me to Mr. Snyder's class for spelling, math and reading to get me out of her class...

    This is the piece that ran in this week's paper, by the way. I was too busy doing something else to write a new column... Let's see... what was it? Oh, yeah! Our show!

    I can't wait for the next round of hate mail!