Un-host-pitable

I remembered something funny this weekend.

We had communion at church and Desi took 2 wafers from the thing and leaned over to show me… and added that he needed extra grace- to which I agreed.

But then it reminded me of the first time I ever took him to my mom’s church before we were married. This was the first time he was meeting my parents and my mom is very Catholic. The deep South has a beautiful Catholic tradition just below the Bible belt. She teaches catachism. She reads the first reading. She volunteers… In fact, now she’s employed by the local diocese.

So. Knowing Desi wouldn’t know the protocol I prepped him before going and part of that was to tell him that during communion he should go up like everyone else but that he was not allowed to take communion (since he’s not been through the sacrament and if my mom noticed, this could be bad). Instead, he was to keep his head bowed and the people would touch his forhead and pray a blessing. This is what is done.

After church we all went to Mr. Gatti’s pizza for pizza buffet. In the line up, Desi pulls the body of Jesus out of his pocket. He says- look, I’ve got Jesus in my pocket.

He said that he forgot and instinctively took a wafer from the guy- not what you’re supposed to do anyway, they put it in your hand or your mouth, you don’t get grabby- and then, not knowing what to do and remembering my strong plea to not eat the host, he panicked and pocketed Jesus.

If my mom had seen that… well, I don’t know. But, it would’ve been a sad sight.