BBQ and Religion

The Good Friday before Matt and I got married we were having dinner with my parents. Barbecue, because that is how we used to roll.

That Sunday, my Aunt, Uncle and sister would all be in town for Easter brunch, and Dad was talking about everything that needed to be done. Including some eggs that hadn't been colored. I said that we could do that for him.  Dad asked if we really would, and Matt said, "Will dye be provided?"

I was a few beers in at that point and it tickled me, the serious way he asked it.  I started cackling. Not just laughing. Cackling.  Dad made us promise not to fuck the eggs up (which made me laugh harder) and told us exactly how to do them. He always bought two dye kits (which were provided), and doubled up on the dye tabs for a super saturated color. He liked them strong and bright.

Back at the house, he gave us the dye and two dozen eggs. We went back to my apartment... but on the way, we got an extra dozen. We did Dad's first. Perfection.

The final dozen, we fucked up. Matt dyed one to look like a breast, and drew a beautiful areola on the pointy end. We refashioned the wire dipper into a coat hanger and rammed it through an egg to make a strong pro-choice statement. I dyed one in Italian flag colors and wrote on it "Get Well Soon Pope!" (John Paul - he was dead shortly after). We used the wax crayon to write "Happy Easter! Now Go Home!" on one before dying it a sunny yellow. I covered one in the stickers from the dye kit. They were hideous.

When we took them over on Saturday, we showed them the uglies first. Then we quickly showed them the good ones.

They liked the joke eggs so much, we had to keep them to show my sister that night.

So, that's my Good Friday story.

Beer and Barbecue. Dye provided.

The End


I don't really get this. How do you have sinus drainage behind the ears? There's no normal anatomical sinus there, unless it's a pathological sinus draining from an abscess, in which case there has to be an infection somewhere.