Reason 9,998 Why I Am Going to Hell (Or Vodka Makes Everything Better)

Anyone who knows us knows that we do loud REALLY well. My kids have two volumes: loud and louder. I have two volumes: louder and loudest.  Despite this, um, "challenge," we still try to bring our kids to church. Every week. Where I spend a solid 90 minutes attempting to get them to focus, stay quiet, and sit still. When we first moved to Worcester, I was lucky enough to make a church friend whose kids also brought the loud. They were awesome. Spirited. Opinionated. Enthusiastic. All of the traits that I love to hate in my own kids. I love me a kid who isn't afraid to make their voice heard. It's magical. It makes me think that one day they might be brave enough to try to change the world. Because everyone knows that well behaved women rarely make history. 

Anyway, we always sat near this family. Because they were awesome. And because our kids blended together in one joyful, noisy, chaotic mess. It was a beautiful thing. My friend and I often joked that we should start bringing a flask to church, because vodka makes everything better. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end and this family that complimented mine so well in those back pews ended up moving far, far away. That's when the best decision ever was hatched. 

Now I've never claimed to be a mature person. (I think anyone who was at that stuff meeting where we played the game  called "Finger Snatch" would attest to this. I giggled like a 13 year old boy through that entire game.) So given my amazing lack of maturity, I thought it would be appropriate to bring a teeny tiny bottle of vodka to church. (We call these nips in Massachusetts. I have since learned that this is a regional thing. You will get some strange looks when you tell out of state people that you "drank nips in church" when they have an entirely different meaning of the word nips. Just sayin'.) Since we had always joked about needing a flask for church, I thought it would be funny if I brought this in my purse and then passed it back to my friend the minute our kids brought the noise. Brilliant and oh so mature, right?!

On the last Sunday before this family moved, I smuggled the little bottle of vodka into church. A going away nip, if you will. It took no more than 3 minutes for one of our littles to turn up the volume. At which point I turned around and handed her this. 

Which of course made us both dissolve into a fit of extreme church giggles. (You know the ones. When you are some place where you shouldn't be hysterically laughing and that just makes you laugh more?! These often strike without warning at very important work meetings and funerals.)

Then we thought it would be an EVEN better idea to bust into the church Kool-Aid supply and share said nip. 

I look evil in this picture. Because clearly I am, as evidenced by my sneaking booze into church. And then downing it shot-style with coffee hour punch. This may or may not have gone down as my best time in church ever. We giggled. We told a few people. We got some SERIOUS disapproving looks. It was awesome. 

I am currently in the market for a new friend to be the naughty girl in the back of the church with me. (Except now the back pews are roped off. Coincidence?!) Who wants in? I'll bring the nips!! 😉