All Along the Watchtower

The Jehova's witnesses came to my door again this morning. It was the lady's second visit; the first time she brought her two kids and a nanny, I think. I was home with the girls and it was a slow Saturday, we were all still in our pjs. The words, "Jehova's Witness" never came out of her mouth, but I knew from experience who she was, they used to come by our house when I was growing up (once, I left my friend Meg on the phone while I went to answer the door for one, I listened to her rap, sort of lost my train of throught, and left poor Meg hanging on the phone wondering who came to my door and snatched me away. She stayed on until I went to the phone to call her several hours later and, well, she was already on the line! Quel surprise!).

During the lady's first visit, Annie, in her Ariel pj's, and her daughter, in her Church clothes checked eachother out through the door. The women tried to connect with me on a parenting level, read a passage from her bible about parenting, handed me the literature, and left. Annie was very confused about the logistics of a girl her age coming to the house, but not staying to play. I tried to explain who the people were but I could tell she didn't get it.

After mentioning it to Brian later that day, I didn't give them a second thought. But when they pulled into the driveway today, I knew exactly who they were, though several months have passed. Today, she came with her husband. I think the kids were in the car. I was mortified to realize that even though it was 11, there we all were in our pjs. Mine, charmingly, consisted of my Simpsons flannel pants and a t-shirt that simply reads, "beer'. Cuh-lassay.

So, I heard her out again as she repeated her schtick: play the parent card, read passage from bible, hand out literature. Only this time I am chuckiling within as I think of how I must look to this lady. I must look like someone who needs a nice religion to set things right. I mean, 2 trips to the house, no sign of a husband, in pj's at all hours with my dirty girls hanging on me (well, Mary's face was messy from her cereal bar snack--Annie was more like...unbrushed) and my dirty hair (guilty as charged). And beer shirt. Yeah, I might look like a saving wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

Both visits, I have tried to find the words to tell her that I have a religion, thank you very much and even though there are things about it that make me angry, it is a part of me. Then again, she isn't exactly asking me to come over to her team. She just swings by, hits the high points, and leaves.

Brian thinks I am nuts for not shutting her down. And I agree with him that by not doing so, I am basically rolling out the red carpet for her return in the future. I don't want her to come back. But I kind of feel like, well, who am I to mess with something she feels called to do? She probably gets a lot of doors slammed in her face for just...doing something that she belives in. So maybe that's where my religion and hers meet. Mine has taught me to treat others kindly, the way I like to be treated. And because of that, I'll continue to listen to hers.

But I am totally getting dressed earlier on Saturdays.