An Alice comes in many guises.
I am beset with work (the paying kind, not the baby kind), which is good, of course, except that I have neglected my poor little infant blog, and if I can’t take care of a 4-month-old blog, how can I ever expect to take care of a child?
Speaking of which!
I dislike it when people say, “I’m not sure if I’m going to have a baby, because, you know, I can’t even take care of a plant.” Because 1) one does not generally have the depth of feeling for a plant that one is biologically compelled to have for one’s offspring, and 2) a baby is not a plant, only more so. They’re actually sort of different from plants. Get out your biology textbook, put it side by side with your horticulture textbook, and study for a while. I’ll be here waiting.
And now I supply an anecdote!
(What do you think of these segues? I’m working on creating the most awkward segues imaginable.)
(You know what’s a great word? Segue.)
Saturday morning. The doorbell rings. It’s a large and merry band of religious proselytizers! They implore my kind, yet Jewish, husband to accept Jesus, but he politely demurs. Then they stand outside our window and jabber at each other about Jesus, and how great it is to love Jesus, and oh, Jesus Jesus Jesus, if he were there right then they’d want to give him a GREAT BIG HUG because they love him THAT MUCH. Now, seeing as how they’re leaning against our window and talking so loudly they might as well come on in, pour themselves some coffee, and wrench our unholy bagels right out of our blasphemous hands, I have the nerve to ask them if they might leave. I heretically lean toward the window and godlessly ask, “Do you think you could walk away now?”
“We’re doing the Lord’s work!” one of the proselytizers exclaims. “We’re here in Christ!”
“That’s swell. But it’s time to be somewhere else in Christ,” I say (more or less; it was probably something less clever than that. But this is my blog! Here I can be clever! Hello!).
At that, there is huffing and muttering among the group, but they eventually shuffle away—about five inches. That’s five inches more than Christ would have wanted!
A few minutes later, I’m leaving my apartment, off for a few hours of (undevout) freedom from the (heathen) child, when I pass the group of proselytizers (notice how I’m subtly not mentioning their religion, so as not to alienate any readers who might share that particular faith! Do you love me? You do!), who are now standing in the middle of the sidewalk, DOING THE LORD’S WORK by blocking everyone’s path, when the woman I had verbally tussled with grabs one of the child-proselytizers by the shoulders, turns him toward me, and said, “A satan comes in many guises.”
Does anyone know what "a satan" is? I am, of course, intimately familiar with Satan, but "a" Satan? What, I'm not good enough to be the real thing? Jesus.










May 18, 2004
Reader Comments (60)
Now I live in Arizona, and it's the same story, just substitute the Mormons. And there's not even any fun-looking Watchtower building here.
Also, that plant/baby analogy is number 2 on my pet peeve list, right below the pet/baby analogy. I wrote a blog post about it. Wanna hear it? Well, it goes like this:http://nycgetaj-o-b.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_nycgetaj-o-b_archive.html#108153111591442527
Guess I'll just have to make another. *sigh*
I was tragically misled by the last line of the "mothers must be judged" entry. After listing the multitude of non-helpful suggestions that mothers of new babies receive, you then said "I'm sure I'll have more in a few months." In a few months? What could Alice be doing in a few months? Perhaps she'll be having a baby! And then the thing today, about how could you take care of a child, well, I suppose I just conveniently overlooked the fact that you already have a child.
Your mother reads your blog? Really? My husband casually mentioned to my mother that I'd been writing, and I just about died thinking that she'd intuit that I have a blog and she'd find me on google and discover that I called her a "garden whore". That would be bad.
Posts like this are why I love Quakers, because they're soooo not into conversion. They just sorta sit in the corner and dream their dreamy dreams.
Logan worked with a Jehovah's Witness and he started calling them the "Jay-Dubs"
The 'Jay-Dub' actually thought it was funny at least but it brings to mind all sorts of funny and incongruent images.
I must be dense also, because I never sensed another baby but then maybe that's because I'm entirely sterile and I think everyone is living a life that looks remarkably like mine.
I think that they were Jehovah's, as well. I used to live next door to Jehovah hub-- and the visitors to my house seemed very similar, except I don't remember them carrying bibles. Dooce, they definitely weren't Mormons, now that I think about it. I seem to remember the missionaries who also hung in my hood wearing nametags and being far less pushy.
Well, they looked at each other and opened their mouths, and then looked back at me, sized me up one last time and walked away.
To this day, I don't understand... Was it something I said? ;) Although now I wish they had called me a satan. That would have been rad!
Did I win?
I scrambled around until inspiration struck... grabbing a scarf from my dresser, I wrapped it around my head and went back to the door.
"You have to leave, now!" I hissed urgently. "My husband doesn't allow me to speak with other men!"
"But..." said the lead Man.
"You must GO! Please, I'll get in trouble!" And I slammed the door.
I noticed the same men ringing doorbells on my block all summer long.... but they never returned to mine.
Score one for the Jewish heathens!JT
The other time my son got to the door before me and asked them, "Is that Bible-stuff? My mommy reads Bible stories to me, and I think they're great!" I managed to push him back and explained that we're quite happy with our own religion, but-thank-you-very-much-for-caring.I think we must have looked an awful lot like scary homeschooling fundamentalists, because those two also excused themselves quickly and never came back. My son was disappointed because he wanted to show them his story Bible.
I'm so frightening, even the religious proslytizers run from me! ;-)
"Hi, can we speak to you about Jesus?"
"Dol-ethroc! Demiatra locus contempre!! Voltupica umBASA!!!"
I laughed so hard at the image of the entire scenario with the "merry band of religious proselytizers". And if you're a satan I will surely be back to read more posts as you must have a lot of juicy material ;)