I always used to wish that I was Catholic, when I was a kid. The Ryan kids lived across the street. They were Catholic. They went to Catholic school, which means that they got lots of days off of school, for holy days. Protestants don't have holy days, which means we were going to school, while the Ryan kids were watching I Love Lucy reruns.
Life ain't fair.
So a few years back, one of ds's friends came by, in the middle of the day. I asked him why he wasn't in school. He had no clue, but he didn't have school. I said, "oh yeah, it'ts Ash Wednesday." He said "oh yeah, it's a Holy Day, and the dog got spayed." What the heck? Turned out the last time they'd had a dog spayed, it bled to death afterward, so this time, she had the teenage son stay home to watch the dog not bleed out.
I pointed out to him that the pope might not like the fact that the dog was spayed. He just looked at me with a blank stare. I don't think he got it.
Oh well. Fast forward to 1998. I was working at St Vincent hospital, which, in case you wondered, is a Catholic hospital. A Catholic hospital, where I was the token Protestant employee in a department of hardcore Catholics who complainted about the "operation aborted" message they would get on their computers. The most difficult week of the entire work schedule was Holy Week, because no one could figure out how they were going to be able to work AND go to church.
My boss was also VERY Irish, and had a huge St Patrick's Day party every year. I told her it was the second most important Holy Day of the year. HUGE party with a HUGE group of Irish Catholics, green beer, and lots of fun. She had to take off the day before AND after the party. And so, in honor of those who are celebrating their Holy Day today, let's tip one for this green cotton novelty print vintage dress, from Those Vintage Girls, on ebay. The Lord be with you.