This is from Elayne, and like she pointed out, it was buried so I’m posting it. Doug is an O-K guy and I should have kept my mouth shut. So, sorry Doug, and here is Elayne’s defense.
Hey Jen – thanks for linking to me (what a traffic boost!), and thanks to everyone who visited and commented.
I do feel the need to defend Doug a bit, though – Doug’s an atheist
himself, and is easily as firm a believer in the "keep religion out of
government" precept as I am. Brews an excellent beer, builds a wicked
playground set, is a very involved dad and a devoted husband. BUT he
enjoys playing Devil’s advocate every so often, and he and I have a
running "picking on your logic" deal. And actually, in part because of
his challenges to my sometimes sloppy thinking, I HAVE gotten better at
refining the process, and developed the habit of thinking about what
I’m thinking about, if that makes sense – so it’s helpful.
I recognized the sarcasm in his comment, because I’ve known him for
quite a while, but someone who doesn’t know his "voice" might easily
Anyway, this comment is kind of buried here in the page so I don’t
know if anyone will see it, but I feel kinda bad that Doug’s
tongue-in-cheek "Christian nation" comment (which probably would have
relayed the sarcasm better if he’d said "dontcha know" instead of "you
know") seems to have been taken seriously, wanted to at least make an
effort to clear that up. **smooches**
So, the little guy (Baby O) should be here any minute. I may never ever blog again. We will see. Wish me luck, Willow is cranky already and she hasn’t had to look at me holding a small cute baby yet. Into the fray. . .
LOL! Poor Doug. He won’t know what to do with all this attention. (Other than lap it up.) You’re a schweetie, Jen.
Good luck with Baby O, and you had BETTER find time for blogging!!! Days I feel insane, I come here and read a bit and go, “Oh, thank GOD* I don’t have four kids!”
*Or, you know, who/whatever. heh.
Reminds me of Thanksgiving dinner at my mom’s house. They have a particularly annoying little dog named Alyssa, who was begging under the table as we sat down to dinner. My dad said we should do the “name one thing you’re thankful for” routine (ugh); my mother said, “I’m thankful that Alyssa’s not twins.”