A Moment of Zen for the Crotchless Panties

Random Observation: Pantyhose render crotchless panties entirely useless.

I was at my parents' house the other day for my stepdad's birthday. They are odd people and they have odd friends. I'll just leave it at that.

One of their odd friends is a lawyer - good lawyer who makes a very decent living. They just built a house close to my parents house. Tragically, his wife and kids were in a horrific car accident. The kids were ok, but his wife suffered a severe brain injury. The swelling was so bad they had to remove part of her skull. Come to find out, this well-off lawyer had neglected to purchase any health insurance for his family. They were not at the party for obvious reasons, but everyone was talking about them.

Just for reference, people of all religious persuasions, particularly the born-again, tongue-speaking, religious...shall we say, enthusiasts, seem to gravitate towards my folks.

I won't lie. These people are very sweet, but they make me feel incredibly awkward. I don't know how to convey that while we have much in common, I don't care to go around vocalizing it incessantly. There are other things to talk about.

There was one couple there at the party who were of this particular ilk. They are very involved with televangilism, being rather nice looking. The wife sings and he preaches about how the amassing of wealth is a Christian value. Hey, I didn't say we had everything in common. I'll call them the Photogenics. I don't like them much. Can you tell? They are kind of fake. Make that extremely fake. It's as if they feel they must be kind to all the heathen even if it means oozing quarts of fake sincerity. For God's sake, be a little snarky. I'd respect you more for it.

Anyway, they were the last to leave the party, and they asked my parents if they would like to pray for lawyer and his family. Then they asked my sisters and I if we would like to pray also. DOH!

I really didn't want to pray with them, but I couldn't think of any way to get out of it without looking and feeling like a prick. My other sister who was local felt the same way. The other two who live in Austin, were fast enough to grab empty plates and the trashcan thereby looking enterprising. I forced Jethro to go with me. He is a dignified person, and I knew I could count on him not to disgrace us. Another sister joined us and we all went into the media room.

My hand was grabbed by Mrs. Photogenic and she started asking all of these very specific questions about Mrs. Lawyer's condition. Detailed medical analysis. She picked Jethro's brain dry as to what the medical procedures were.

Finally they started. Let me just say that I'm no stranger to the ways of the born-again. My parents tried their best bring us up in the tradition, but all of us, without exception, rejected it out of hand. It just wasn't our thing, even though we were exposed to nothing else until Catholic school. I can't tell you how bad it is when Catholics seem normal. But I digress.

Mrs. Photogenic had my hand and started praying. Mr. Photogenic took up this chorus of groans and chants to Jesus. I'll try to write what I remember.

Mrs. P: Dear Jesus we ask that you would smite the demons swelling Mrs. Lawyer's brain.

(So much for the medical information)

Mr. P and the parents: *Groan, groan* "Thank you Jesus, Amen, Thank you Jesus. You are Lord."

Mrs. P: "We ask that you come down and heal this woman. Speak to the doctors, speak to the nurses, speak to that brain."

Mr. P and the parents: *Longer and longer moans* "Praise you Lord Jesus, Praise you Lord, Amen Lord.

My sisters, Jethro and me: "???!!!"

You can't just say "speak to that brain" to a bunch of born-again novices. I immediately bit my tongue nearly in half to quell the tide of panicked laughter welling up from my gut. I felt my sister pinch my hand urgently. I pinched it back. We pinched each other until the blood came. No good. Down my face went into my lap, my entire body convulsed with silent laughter. And you know the harder you try to stop the harder you laugh. My sister Rochelle, was in the exact same position. Jethro remained stoic throughout. He is a rock.

FINALLY the ghastly prayer was over. I picked my head up from my lap and hoped the tears would look sorrowful.