June 4, 2010


To celebrate my confirmation into the church, my parents gave me a pat on the head. To celebrate my sister's confirmation, they threw a lavish party. One of the best and most ridiculous aspects of the party was a giant Bible shaped cake. I'm not exactly sure whether my mom saw this cake at the store and decided she wanted it for the party, or if she actually dreamed this up herself and then ordered it (which would be even more hilarious). Either way, it looked something like this:

Just before the celebration was to start, my family engaged in our usual pre-party argument. I hadn't done what I'd been asked, my mom was edgy because her head was hot from all the rollers in it, my dad was in trouble because he was refusing to shower and change, and my sister didn't want us all to embarrass her. I was delicately sneaking around the house trying to avoid everyone's pre-party wrath.

Then I heard my mom scream in the dining room. Her yelping, "YaAaAaAaAa!," usually meant she had seen a roach, but this time was different. Our Old English Sheep Dog, Jack, was causing the commotion.

Let me say a little about this dog. Imagine a giant sheep dog living in the south Florida heat, with bad hips, fleas, and an internal organ problem that caused him to smell like Doritos all the time. Before he was put to sleep, the vet told us that the smell was due to the fact that his organs had been rotting slowly over the years. (The quack never mentioned this at any of Jack's previous visits.) After they put him down, my mom called me aside and gently broke the news:

Anyway, when I heard my mom screaming, I rounded the corner only to see Jack with his front paws up on the table, eating the Bible. That dog was just gnawing through First Corinthians as fast and irreverently as he could. Frosting was everwhere. It was like some kind of unholy communion.

The site of my mom clutching her heart while sugary Bible verses smeared and crumbled under dog snout was too much to take. I think I passed out due to extreme elation, because all I can really remember after that was this last minute mess of a back-up plan:

Dear Jack,

Thanks for all the memories. Getting fleas that one time from you was worth it.


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