Monday, January 24, 2011

The Prude incurs a personal foul



The Prude wonders if those in heaven are shielded from seeing their loved ones on earth. At least from the actions of which they highly disapprove.
Because The Prude’s father would have whooped her upside the head yesterday.

That last statement requires immediate retraction. Her father was a gentle, non-violent man who preferred to make her feel incredibly extremely guilty.

The reason for the potential heavenly glare? For the induced guilt?

The Prude watched a football game yesterday.

Innocent, you say? Understandable? Even forgivable, since The Prude lives in the Midwest and the game was between 2 midwestern teams?

The Prude’s father wouldn’t have seen it that way. He was a sporting man who nevertheless hated the emphasis placed on organized sports and the adulation of athletes. He felt sporting events got more attention on the Lord’s Day than the Lord .

The Prude, in a frenzy of induced guilt, imagines the commentary her father would have made had he been able to get a glimpse of his daughter from the Far Side of the Jordan.

“It’s Sunday afternoon and another great day for some rest and worship! We’re here at my daughter’s house and she is just coming back from church with her family and friends. The action is about to begin!
She’ll cut back to the kitchen to take the roast beef from the oven…false start! She’s instead spooning something lumpy into bowls...could that be… Chili? On Sunday? Not sure that was the best call. It will undoubtedly become offensively foul.

Now the meal is complete. The men are in motion.
Looking a little sluggish- they’re paying the penalty for all that chili!

Their goal is the living room where they’ll huddle to discuss the sermon and maybe read some edifying material.
Wait a minute! Another game changer!
They’re turning on the television! That is an illegal move unless– let me check– no, no Billy Graham Crusade scheduled.
It appears to be– say it isn’t so– a FOOTBALL GAME. This is a definite fumble.
My daughter seems to have forgotten those years of rigorous training in the Sunday Game Plan.
Worship service. Roast beef dinner. Sermon discussion. Nap. Tea and cookies.
Evening worship.
It was all in her rule book.
All those pep talks about not worshipping at the altar of sports idols.
Any chance I could execute an interception here? Call a penalty? No?

Well then. Does anyone know if it’s an illegal procedure to give her a two-minute warning before I rush down and whoop her upside the head?

4 comments:

Unknown said...

Yay for your father! I think I would have liked him, at least in this regard. Imagine, a peaceful Sunday afternoon to read quietly without being interrupted by whooping and requests for more chips and dip! Sounds so wonderful. (Although, our house is quiet on Sundays anyway, because we don't have network TV. If anybody wants to watch a game they need to go somewhere else.)

The Prude said...

Sandy, you would have loved EVERYTHING about my dad.
And he probably would have thought you were pretty great too.

Lisa Lickel said...

He would have loved our pastor's prayer yesterday. Something on the order of - may everyone play to the best of his ability and may no one get hurt. amen.

The Prude said...

Lisa- I'm guessing he didn't specify the Bear's quarterback in that prayer?