on birthdays and sheep

i'm another year older, 32 to be exact. while at least i'm not an antique 34 like sister spikey mace, i still feel over the hill. i look at my current situation and realize things are not going as planned. but i suppose you can't really plan for life, because you never know what will happen to change your course. i'm doing the best i can given the circumstances, and that's good enough for me.

my mother came to town for my birthday and stopped and picked up the kids on her way here, so that was nice. what wasn't so nice was that she begged and pleaded her way into getting me to agree to go to church with her this morning, on my birthday no less. it looks like my son is taking after dear old dad at a young age, he told her he hated going to church and wasn't going to do it. he only relented after i assured him (out of earshot of my mother) that i didn't really think too much of the whole idea either, but that we didn't have to do it that often and that he could suck it up and take one for the team. lucky for both of us my second born was so bad we had to leave halfway through.
this still gave me about thirty minutes to watch a room full of adults singing songs about, and praying to, someone who doesn't exist. the whole concept leaves me torn between giggling at the absurdity of it all, and crying that so many people are so easily fooled, my own mother being one of them. you might as well sing a song praising homer simpson, or pray to al bundy, all three are fictional characters, and each will get you the same thing: squat. i don't get on my atheist soapbox very often, mainly because if you believe in fairy tales, nothing i can say here is going to change your mind and i don't want to alienate people, but i had to let off some steam after having to witness it first hand this morning. i'm done for now.