We went to Mass as the normal time, and we had the pleasure of seeing some new faces. That happens on Palm Sunday. And Easter. And Christmas. It’s wonderful. I like it to be cozy. I don’t mind going early. The more the fucking merrier. Seriously.
But if you show up for Mass three times per year, maybe keep your side eye to yourself. Kids squirm and sneeze and sometimes giggle or even squeal. The day you stop hearing that is the day marking the beginning of the end for the Church.
I know, I’m preparing for Easter. I should be cool about these things. I should learn to love through the side eye.
Oh, and also, to the lady with the fake eyebrows who stopped us outside to tell us our kids our gorgeous and my husband looks great but I could use a vacation or a spa day or something. A-fucking-men. And also. Mind your own damn business.
Happy Palm Sunday! ❤