in the garden.. .the hilarity of lent

Sometimes it strikes me what a complete nerd I am. Literally, the biggest nerd on the whole entire planet. And I can't help it---it hits me right in the tickles.


Me: We cannot seem to get a normal week lately. If it isn't a snow day it's too cold to go out for recess. Or it's Valentine's Day, or a four day week, or--this week we have Ash Wednesday. That will be weird because we won't have Mass on Tuesday, but we will have it on Wednesday--"

And I have an out-of-body-awareness for Dan, who has joined us for dinner, and who I am dead-positive never, ever thought he'd fall in love with some gal who talked about Mass on Tuesdays and Wednesdays....

Dan: Yea, you guys have had a run of off weeks...

Me: And then we have Mission Carnival Day on Tuesday, ashes on Wednesday which will turn them all in a tizzy, then we all plunge into Lent...and for the next six Fridays we have--"

He nods. Nods. Listens and nods.

"...Stations of the Cross which, I can't help it--I just YAWN all the way through!"

This gets his attention and I start to giggle at the thought of it. It's not as if I don't find it moving, but it makes me so sleepy. All the yawning. So, so much yawning.

"Incessently! I can't stop! Like every five seconds! Like, Jeez, St. Peter..."

I envision myself making this joke that Dan is not going to laugh at--and I can't take it! It starts.

"Jeez, St. Peter---" I try again.

The strange look he's already giving me...it's too much! The fact that this is SUCH a nerdy joke. All in a blink of a moment I see myself--the messed up braid that is coming unraveled, the pj pants, the glasses. On the brink of a joke I can't even stop myself from saying...

"Like...Jeez, St. Peter. Are you having a hard time staying awake?"

And I laugh. Chuckle, bubble, chortle, laugh. It's phenomenally dorky as a joke and Dan's slowwwww turn from his phone screen to the sight of me tossing myself sideways into his shoulder, laughing, just makes the whole entire thing more ridiculous than it has any right to be.

"Do you need me to go get Bess?" he deadpans.

"Just a little Garden of Gethsemane humor, everybody!" I stop laughing long enough to act like we have a willing audience to this spectacle.

"...because I do not get any of these jokes, babe."

And that sends me into the stratosphere of hilarity all over again.

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