The Birthday Post

This is the birthday post where I tell you the best part about my special day. I went to church. What girl doesn't want to celebrate her 32nd birthday at church? I know. You're all jealous. It was our school's Lenten Mass, so we walked the school over to the church. The primary division was in charge of making sure everything was in order and set up, and all the readers, etc were ready to rock. Despite being a division with 7 teachers, it falls to me.Everytime. I don't mind, but it comes with some stress. Father Chip-on-his-shoulder was busy and we needed to get a stool for the wee'uns to reach the microphone. Another teacher and I have done the sacramental years for a long time so the priest knows us quite well. We know where the step stool is so I mentioned to him that we needed it and asked if we could get it. Brushing me off, he said "yes, you know where to go." So we went to the little room off the altar where we've visited many times. We open the door and notice the room is packed with crap. We stood there looking around when he busts in and yells "Do I go to your house and go through your things?!" Excuse me? Are you kidding me right now? He told us to go, but then decided to berate us and tell us how the room has lots of boxes with glass and he doesn't want us breaking anything. Ugh. I'm not 6. I think I can handle it. First, my partner in church crime says "you can come to my house anytime you want and go through my things, just tell me where the stool is," and I, feeling like a scolded kid, asks if he wants us to put it back after mass and if we should ask him first...again, so he doesn't yell at us again. He says, "just put it back and don't break anything." I was so pissed off. I've never wanted to swear at a man of the cloth like I did then. You know, we go through a lot to make sure these kids are prepared for church, and you could be a little nicer. As we were walking away I decided 2 things: 1. He must be hiding something in that room. 2. It's not his house, it's the LORD's house isn't it? AND I'm sure my pennies in the basket helped payed for this place. Doesn't that give me some right to open a door here and there if it's for Mass? I also decided that I was done talking to him for the day. Just before Mass the choir teacher came over to me and said Father needed to speak to me about a part of the mass. I politely told her that I am not speaking to him right now and he can answer his own question, because we always to it the same way. Any further questions could be directed at another teacher..not me. Then I decided I'm not making eye contact with him, or even looking up at the altar in his direction for that day. This was a hard task because teaching grade one, I am the first class in the pew and he's right in front of me.

I know, I'm juvinille, but it made me feel better.

After Mass he came over to appologize, siting hunger and lack of sleep as the cause of his meltdown. I told him, "Thank you. I appreciate your appology, but you really made me feel sad when you yelled at us. You know us. You know we wouldn't do anything to intentionally offend or upset you. It wasn't fair. AND you yelled at me on my birthday!" Insert pout.

I tried to make him feel guilty.

I hope it worked.

BUT on the plus side, I can cross "getting yelled at by a priest, at church, on the altar, on my birthday" off my list of things to do in this lifetime.

Happy Birthday to me!