![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Andrew just wandered into the room and said, apropos of nothing, “Do you think the reason Jesus hasn’t come back yet is that he’s pissed off with people calling it Good Friday?”
“I don’t know, dear,” I said in what is the tone-of-voice version of patting someone on the head.
“ ‘It wasn’t good,’” he says, clearly attempting to do a good Jesus-voice. “It was put-me-on-a-bit-of-wood Friday and it hurt! It was the worst fucking Friday of my life!”
You know he has a point there. When I was quite young, and my dad was disappointed that my brother and I were more excited about chocolate Easter bunnies than we were about Jesus turning into zombie Jesus. (But with him denying us candy for the previous month and a half and claim we were “giving it up for Lent” even though to me it always looked like some kind of punishment, but even I knew better than to mention that so I just asked this instead.) How the hell did it get called Good?
I think my parents gave some lame answer about how it was good because it was part of this whole big dying-for-us thing, but even then I wasn’t impressed.
“It shouldn’t be called Good Friday!” Andrew continued. “it should be called Ow Friday!”
He wandered away to brush his teeth or something and came back a minute later declaring, “I’m going to start calling it Ow Friday; maybe it’ll catch on.”
“I don’t know, dear,” I said in what is the tone-of-voice version of patting someone on the head.
“ ‘It wasn’t good,’” he says, clearly attempting to do a good Jesus-voice. “It was put-me-on-a-bit-of-wood Friday and it hurt! It was the worst fucking Friday of my life!”
You know he has a point there. When I was quite young, and my dad was disappointed that my brother and I were more excited about chocolate Easter bunnies than we were about Jesus turning into zombie Jesus. (But with him denying us candy for the previous month and a half and claim we were “giving it up for Lent” even though to me it always looked like some kind of punishment, but even I knew better than to mention that so I just asked this instead.) How the hell did it get called Good?
I think my parents gave some lame answer about how it was good because it was part of this whole big dying-for-us thing, but even then I wasn’t impressed.
“It shouldn’t be called Good Friday!” Andrew continued. “it should be called Ow Friday!”
He wandered away to brush his teeth or something and came back a minute later declaring, “I’m going to start calling it Ow Friday; maybe it’ll catch on.”