I attempted church again last night for midnight mass. I went with angelic Holly and her two saintly brother’s. Her brother, Todd, brought his girlfriend whom also has a halo permanently affixed to her head.
Holly’s nephew, Christian, also came. He’s 12 and likes to hang out with me. I drove him to the church and he asked me if it was okay if I sat with him on the balcony.
“Sure.” I said – seeing that I agree to most things.
We arrive at the church, sat down in the balcony and looked down to see Holly, her two brothers and the girlfriend, whom all smiled politely and waved up at us.
The mass began, the choir started singing their heavenly hymns. People smile and look peaceful while Christian sat beside me playing Resident Evil on my cell phone.
He got bored with it after five minutes and started shifting his body around trying to get comfortable. He wanted to take a nap. I watched him squirm around and wondered if I should offer a shoulder, but decided against it.
He made himself comfortable and closed his eyes. I thought of an excuse in case someone nudged me because he was napping. I was going to tell them he was praying really hard and/or was in deep holy meditation.
Christian – I’m going to the bathroom.
Me – Okay
I was singing Glory Glory Hallelujah and was upset he was going to miss it.
He comes back to the pew 5 or 10 minutes later with blood all over his face.
Me – What happened to you?!
Christian – I was falling asleep.
I thought that maybe he kept a vile of fake blood in his pocket for emergencies like this. For when he wants an excuse to leave certain places. What a great idea I thought to myself.
Me – Christian, there’s blood on your face. Your nose is bleeding.
He wipes his nose on his sweatshirt sleeve and says, “Uh oh.”
‘Uh oh’ I thought, too. In the 20 minutes I was left watching this kid, I managed to give him a bloody nose, let him play Resident Evil and take a nap in church.
I didn’t have any napkins in my pockets and wondered what kind of person I was for not having stock piled napkins before leaving for church. I’m certainly not the prepared, matronly type who is at ease in these sticky situations. No, I was a clueless girl staring into the face of a bloody 12 year old boy who was just as clueless as I was.
Why doesn’t he go to the bathroom and wipe his face? Why’s he just sitting there looking exasperated? Oh, yeah, I’m the adult. I have to tell him what to do.
Me – Go to the bathroom and wipe your face.
Christian – Okay.
If I had napkins in my pocket, I wouldn’t have to send him off on his own again. What if he came back missing an arm this time? A tissue ain’t gonna help a missing arm. What if there were zombies lurking about? I wondered if the church had a morgue in the basement.
I looked down at sweet little oblivious Holly sitting below amongst the other parishioners. She would have napkins in her pockets for sure. She even had hard candy in her purse for her brother who insists upon having hard candy available every year during midnight mass. I wish I can be more like her.
But instead I sent this poor bloodied child off into the wilderness to find a tissue.
I sat and waited for him. I sat and sat. The more I sat, the more insane the stories became in my head. It felt like 10 minutes went by and still no Christian. I looked around to see if there were any worried faces from anyone who may have seen a bloody-faced child sleeping in a vestibule.
I had my excuses handy, such as ‘he’s part of the live nativity scene’ or ‘it must be stigmata.’
I may not have tissue’s in my pockets, but I always have an assortment of ready lies handy. And what’s more important, really? Especially in church at Christmas?
Christian finally came back and sat down beside me. My weary brain couldn’t handle any more bedlam.
Me – Do you want to go home? We don’t have to stay here.
Christian – Yeah.
We got up as quietly as we could and headed out the door. I was running on 3 hours of sleep anyway, and was super exhausted.
Today is Christmas. I’m eating ham and stuff and sitting in front of the computer blogging as usual. My mom bought me two new PS3 games, but won’t give them to me yet. She says I have to eat first. Eating doesn’t go well with blogging. My food ends up half eaten, cold and pushed to the side. Become a blogger and go on the blogger diet that consists of sardines and cheese sandwiches.
I’m going over my brother’s house later. That should provide me with more blogging material I can use later tonight if I’m not playing my new video games.