Today is apparently All Saints Day, which never would have had any bearing on my life except that now my child is in Catholic school and they throw parties for this shit. The paper he brought home a few weeks ago said something about costumes being optional, and I thought it was a joke. Kids actually dress up for this shit?
Besides, Chooch has been in 4 different costumes in the last week, so I opted out on his behalf.
And what the fuck do sinners know about saints, anyway? I only know St. Francis, and that’s because I’m a spoiled brat who got to go to Assisi four times as a child, though all I really learned there was:
- don’t piss off monks, particularly monks near chains
- the hot chocolate there sucks
- when you break something in a gift shop, run
So, short of strapping a bird bath to the front of Chooch, I really had no other clues and sent him to school in his street clothes.
Two kids in his class were already there when we arrived this morning: one girl was wearing basically a white potato sack with gold ribbing along the collar; her mom is one of those broads who has to have her hands in everything so I rolled my eyes and thought to myself, “Of course she’s dressed up.” Another kid hadn’t put his on yet. Chooch was looking at me with these sad eyes and asked, “Why don’t I have a costume?”
“Because we don’t do saints,” I whispered, pretending to lovingly smooth out his hair but really that’s our secret code for “STFU before you embarrass mommy.”
I am hard-pressed to believe that every single child is going to come trouncing into the classroom in some ridiculous robe. You can’t have saints without sinners, right?
I had Henry bake cookies last night so I’d have something to contribute to the party, thereby acknowledging that this is a day to celebrate
fictional Biblical characters. Hopefully chocolate chip and sugar cookies will suffice. I don’t know what these crazy Catholic schools do and as long as there aren’t any goats or rams being slaughtered on stone tables, they can have a fucking ball over there playing saint-related games and singing Biblical ballads. I just don’t need any detailed accounts.
“He could have been zombie Jesus,” Henry said when we were on the phone a little while ago and I think he was only semi-joking. I also think he doesn’t know that Jesus isn’t actually a saint.
Maybe we’ll pull that one out for the Easter party. They already know we’re fucking idiots.
[ETA: Apparently there is a feast involved in this holiday and now my interest is officially piqued. Maybe next year.]
[ETA pt. 2: The teacher told Henry that when the priest went around asking all the kids what saints they were dressed as, Chooch said he was God. Also, judging by all the shit Chooch brought home, all the other parents treated this as a Halloween party. NICE TO KNOW. There needs to be a handbook for heathen parents who send their kids to Catholic school.]