Shann (6:21pm): Hi Daddy! Remind me to take you to the market on Saturday when you visit. Love you miss you!
Daddy (10:38pm): Okay! We will do it. Be safe and be a lady! xx daddy
It's not a good sign when even your father has to remind you to act like a lady via BBM over an ocean. As is typical in my life I chose to diverge from the plan my loving republican father laid out for me. Needless to say being a lady... epic fail. I woke up feeling extremely guilty for not living up to the very reasonable standards of the man who has done nothing but emotionally and financially support my Irish endeavors. It was 11 am, 3 hours earlier than my usual wake up time in Galway. The doorbell/obnoxious buzzer was going off as the girls down the hall followed through with their promise to wake Maire up for church. Note this was her facebook status as of 4 am this morning:
I love you too. As she stumbled about the room getting dressed for the occasion something in my head went off. Church! Yes! Ladies go to church! Papa John would be so proud. At this revelation I fell out of bed, which was obviously not my original intention but it happened, and scrambled for some classy church clothes. I was never more pumped up for church in my life.
Me: Maire, something is telling me I should go to church.
Maire: Yeah Shan, it's called shame.
Me: Fair enough. I'm coming. Let's do the damn thing. (Probably not the best church reference, but I had good intentions)
Appropriate dress? Check. Pearls? Check. Dignity? Hense church people. By 11:30 am, aka the time we believed church began, the two of us headed down to Kevin's room. Kevin is another Canicius (note: learn to spell name of roommates college) student who we have yet to find something wrong with. Most importantly he is an ideal wingman and heart-to-heart partner. He was still in bed. After informing us that "the time to leave for church is after it begins, just as long as we're there for the snacks" and freaking out about having pulp in his oj because food and drinks shouldn't be combined, we finally headed to church.
11:43am Arrive at church.
11:44am Realize church began at 11:15am.
We stand in the back awkwardly after Maire accidentally slammed the gazillion pound Cathedral door behind us. Next to us was a guy, late 20s, and a 2 year old boy. This caught my attention instantly since I recently decided that child-snatching an Irish nugget was very high on my to-do this. Little did I know that inside the Galway Cathedral was Satan's son. The little bugger was kicking this man's ass, and he was brilliant in his strategic abuse. He pulled the man's neck, slapped him in the face, and had a better punch than 99% of my friends. I would definitely want him on my side of a fight. He would wave his left first in the air and once the man looked at it - BAM right hook. This went on for a while until the pint-sized demon snuggled up like an angel as lovingly as a child could be. I was so relieved. Although creepy, I felt like this gesture was something I could stare at without making the man embarrassed. He then sat up in the man's arms and looked at him lovingly as if he was going in for a kiss and BOOM! Right hook so hard it made a sound the priest could have heard. We lost it. Right then and there. No control. I always thought the funniest thing little kids could do is fall down ( Awful, I know. But you can't judge me because I guarantee you didn't go to church today). At this point everyone was staring at us as we fought to contain ourselves. I suck at church. We quickly had our snacks and bolted. Church Round 1...epic fail.
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