When I was a kid every time we would visit my grandparent’s house we would have to go to church. The main reason is because my grandfather was a Baptist preacher living in the bible belt of America. Most times it was ok but a few times there would be isuues

My grandfather was a Baptist preacher who preached about a horrible hell that awaited us if we sinned, so naturally every time I heard him preach I would sit there fearing for my eternal soul. I knew I was going to hell because I could never live up to what a good person did or should do. I wasn’t like my cousin Ray who could do no wrong and was loved by all. I was always sinning and to be honest I was loving it. Sometimes, I even sinned in church.

I would sit in church thinking about the dinner we were going to have afterwards because my grandma always had a huge dinner or we would go out to eat - either way, it was a win-win situation and I couldn‘t help thinking about it. What can I say? I loved food. Thinking about food was not my only sin - sometimes, during the church service, I would fall asleep and when my mom pinched me awake I would lie and say I was praying. When my brother would try to call me out by saying I was snoring I would lie again and say I was speaking in tongues. For some reason my mom never believed me and I’d just get a super pinch which would make me yelp like a little girl. I have to admit that many a times I would sit there pretending to listen to my grandfather’s words, but in reality I was thinking un-pure thoughts about Naomi Accosta.

I remember one time when I was young and still believed that if you committed a sin the ground would open up and the devil would reach up and take you straight to hell - I had to fart real bad, and if farting while your grandfather is preaching is not a sin then I didn’t know what was. I turned to the only One that could help and I pleaded my case.

…I prayed:

Dear Lord

I know that eating so many eggs for breakfast was not smart
Because now I really, really have to fart.

I’m not trying to be a douche

I just can’t help it
air is trying to escape my tush

I take my grandfather’s words to heart
But even so,
I still have to cut a fart

I’m not vain or proud
So, I’ll try and not be too loud

I know I’m in your house
So hopefully I’ll let a little squeek
And everyone will think it’s just a mouse.

I know I’ll go to hell
But all I ask
Is that it doesn’t smell

I’m a fighter
So I’m squeezing my butt cheeks tighter

But, I really have to go
I can feel it about to blow

I know I won’t win
But I think I can save the day
I’ll just blame it on my cousin… Ray

Amen