Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Heaven's Hashtags: #sluttygirlproblems

My Sunday School class continues to be the only reason I go to church.  I'd like to say it's Jesus, or The Spirit, or the endless number of brothers* and sisters* I get to mingle with each week.  But it's not.  It's five, totally out-of-control, straight laced adolescents (*Mormon out-of-control). 

They are hilarious.  I threw a Mexican Food Blow Out at my house a few weeks ago.  Ryan 2.0 brought a homemade pinata that looked like a tissue paper covered coffin and we all took turns breaking every broom in the house trying to get the thing open.  I initially suggested we use a hammer to bust it open, then my adult mind kicked in and decided that was NOT the responsible thing to do...see I do heed that voice every now and then.  After the pinata finally gave in to the relentless broom beating the guys hog tied Nathan outside, while the girls lounged in my living room talking about boys and BYU, and other wholesome Mormon girl topics.  Then we all gathered around my dining room table and they shared all of the latest teenage Mormon dirt and I gave them the full recount of my first date (my date who sang a musical...while we were at the musical...from the audience...how he splurged and used a coupon to take me to Pizza Hut...then home for a movie...and then topped it off with three hours of leg humping...provided by his dog...).

It was awesome.

So much better than attending a Relief Society* event where no one gets tied up or humped.

The whole night they spoke in hashtags and said thing like:  "Carrie, I love this salsa!  #whitegirlscancook" and "your fish are so strange, #someoneinthishouseisdrunk".

It was pretty funny...but what makes it epic is that they continue to speak in hashtags during Sunday School.

"I love tights, because you can wear shorter skirts, #sluttygirlproblems."

"Pray about it, #Jesusneedsacellphone."

"I'm the school mascot, I can do that, #Christiansincostumes."

The fun never ends.

In addition to total class chaos, the incessant hashtagging, and half of the class insisting on spending the entire class laying on the floor, one of the class members has become "the dirty son of a bishop".  He's not dirty, but his dad was just made bishop.  So now class goes something like this,

"We don't need a lesson, #burntoutontruth, right you dirty son of a bishop?"

My adult mind says, "don't laugh".  But the real me responds,

"If you don't sit on a chair, that son of a bishop will go get your mother, #I'mgoingtohellforlaughing."

Then we all laugh and it just keeps going downhill.

We may not have the holy spirit, but we do have plenty of other spirit #weallneedabreakfromchurch


KarKar said...

This is one of the funniest stores EVER!!

I still think the kiddo's appreciate the downtown but still praising the Jesus!!!




Bjorge Queen said...

I would probably attwnd church again if I could come to your class.

Anonymous said...

Can you teach my Sunday School class? This is seriously the best blog flat-out, straight-up, EVER.