So...as we're tooling from place to place in the car on Halloween night, we start talking about the original meaning of Halloween as the "hallowed eve"--the evening before the holy feast of all saints. We start talking about the saints in general and M puts in that she wants to be a saint when she grows up. "Me too!" says B. Then J screws up her face in a contrarian scowl: "I
don't want to be a saint when I grow up! I want to be a mom!"
The cherry on top of this conversation? M rebutts with: "Well, you can't be a saint until you're dead anyway."
You can read my spouse's version of this story over at the
Ironic Catholic, where you can also find plenty of comments about it--my favorite of which is, "So...she's going for martyrdom, then?"
