Pop dragged me to his singles group tonight. Okay, okay, okay, "dragged" is a little harsh. He asked, and I agreed. I knew it would make him happy, and every now and then I try to do things to make him happy.
Little back story for the confuddled:
Poppa, my biological father, is a born-again Evangelical Fundamentalist Christian. He eats, sleeps, and breathes Christ the Savior. So does his wife. Every detail about everyday is Jesus this and Christ that. This is a turn off.
Poppa is a born-again Evangelical Fundamentalist Christian.
I am
so not. I'm a recently confirmed Catholic, but this is not about my religion, this is about Poppa and Singles Group.
Enough backstory, back to the story:
He's persistent. I don't care how many times I tell him no, he insists that I accompany him on these excursion. "Go to this with me." "Go to that with me." I usually go because it's the only way I can spend time with him. He
will not pass on fellowship to spend quality time with his first born (or any subsequent born). I'm also a spectator, and I enjoy watching other people. Call it amatuer anthropology, if you will. Even if I don't agree with these people, I'll gladly meet them half way to understanding (I'd appreciate the same consideration every once in a while, but alas, another tale-and battle-for another time). Anyway, I went to singles, and listen to more FECs discuss Jesus Christ and how He inhabits every moment of every day.
It was as utterly uncomfortable as every other time I "participate" in his religious goings-on. Though this time, nobody told me I was going to Hell, so I guess that's a plus.
I resigned myself to outsider status years ago. This evening was no different.
I don't even remember the point of this post. Just blowing off steam.
