With Queen B's graduation under our belts, we are now free to focus on the next big event, which, as we all know, is the celebration of the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. As most of my friends know, I am Catholic; a terrible Catholic, but, Catholic, nonetheless, so, for me, Christmas has always included a religious observance of some sort (sometimes, if I'm being honest, it has been no more than watching The Little Drummer Boy on DVD. I'm not proud).
This year, Mom, Jana, Chris, Kaley, Granny, and I visited a live nativity, presented by the cutest group of Catholic school kids in the free world. I kept expecting some crazy antics, reminiscent of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever (BEST BOOK, EVER!), but, the tiny Catholic students were disappointingly well-behaved.
It's ok; their adorableness made up for their lack of rebellion, and, I filled in the gap in inappropriate behavior by continuously referring to the event as The Jesus Weenie Roast (which, in my defense, is what happens when the flyer advertising your live nativity also highlights the hot dog roast taking place just outside the manger); Jana was suitably appalled, and, I have a few bruises on my arm from her swatting at me each time I said it. Its ok; I still love her.
And, truth be told, I loved the live nativity and the program presented by the kids; their sweet little voices made the traditional Christmas carols sound heavenly, and, when several of the older students actually played The First Noel using hand bells, I was blown away. You can't learn this stuff in public school, folks.
Or, maybe you can, but, I'm pretty sure you won't see angels cooking hot dogs over an open flame.
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