Today is Fat Tuesday. Fat Tuesday is more than just Mardi Gras and Carnival. It’s more than just ass shaking, parades and beads. It’s the day in which all of us good Catholics indulge in excess and opulence before we commence with our Lenten sacrifices. Bring on the guilty pleasures with wild abandonment.
Tomorrow, we embark upon our 40-day journey of self-sacrifice and deprivation in the name of making us better-focused, devout followers and generally all around better people. (Wait! Did you hear that? Choirs of angels just sang backup to my post.)
As I am planning my rich meal and indulgent dessert for tonight’s last supper, as dictated by Catholic church tradition, I can not help letting my mind contemplate what my sacrifice will be for my 25th Lent in ordinary time.
My home? I already gave that up last August. My friends? Sadly, they were collateral damage sacrificed in the move. My privacy? That was given up the moment I was handed my first born and further denied thrice when we moved in with our in laws. Sex? With no access to the conjugalorium, the freaky sex lovemaking has been put on life support reserving our energy and military tactics for special occasions (refer to in laws).
Shopping sprees? I don’t think Children’s place, Gymboree and Target shopping for kid’s clothes counts. Free time? Ha! I’m a Mom. Free time. We don’t get no stinkin free time. Junk food? Hello, perpetually on a diet; severely restricted already. Try again.
Coffee? I did that last year and it wasn’t pretty. Children were crying, the luggage under my eyes was super sized and my attitude was akin to shark week on steroids. It really should be against the law to take caffeine away from insomniacs.
The Internet? Social media? Sure, it would be a great sacrifice to me but at what cost? I can’t sacrifice my sanity and my livelihood. We want everyone to remain safe, right? The Internet stays.
I’m left with 2 vices, sad to say, one being my potty mouth (I know it’s classy. Believe me if I hear the ‘ how can such a pretty girl have such a dirty mouth’ one more time from my mom, I might just scream.) and red meat. Considering that I was a devout vegetarian for 10 years, I think in celebration of my original sacrifice, the red meat and sex have to go. Ok, I was kidding about the red meat the sex. Give a man a fish and all that.
In celebration of Fat Tuesday, after consuming copious amounts of carbs, we will consummate our last eve of freedom. Throwing caution to the wind and having wild, unprotected fornication for 7 full minutes. That’s how we crazy Catholics roll and mama needs a tuition break. 2 more kids and the 4th one’s free. Woohoo!
*No unprotected marital relations actually took place in the making of this post.
Update: I Lied. I ended up pregnant.
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti Amen. Happy Fat Tuesday; may your bellies be full and your happiness be plentiful.