Mortification Monday, v. 1.0 (Disclaimers here)
Chapter 3: Man of my Nightmares
When we last left Bethany and Igor, he had just taken their physical relationship up a notch–in public–leaving her embarrassed, “surprized,” and generously resolving to still like Igor, him being the love of her
life past two months and all. But will their passion stand the test of time? Especially now that, merely two journal entries into their relationship, Bethany finds herself considering marriage with another man?
Wednesday, February 19th (Age 12)
“Last night I had a very vivid dream about 23 (or so) year-old Darrell Pritchard wanting me to marry him. There had just been a confrence about dreams having significant meanings, and I’m scared.1 It didn’t help, either, that at the confrence tonight, Darrell sat right in front of me. I don’t know why, but it almost makes me sick to look at him.2 Some people just look like that to me.3 I really hope I don’t have to marry him, but that dream was very vivid and realistic.4 I pray that it won’t come to pass.5”
1 Our church religiously followed the 14th Commandment of Southern Baptists (right behind  “Thou shalt respect the potluck and keep it overabounding, lo, in bakedeth beans,” and  “Thou shalt maketh no less than five altar calls during any one church function, including potlucks”): “Thou shalt conduct frequent conferences in which the congregation will [a] be slain in the Spirit, [b] doubt their salvation and thus rededicate their lives to Christ, or [c] learn about hidden spiritual meanings.” It was at one of these conferences that I learned red-heads have divine powers (::flexes muscle of divinity, no other muscles being available at the moment::). At another conference, I learned that being “slain in the Spirit” generally involves being knocked over the head by an evangelist with very divine muscles. At yet another conference, I learned that demons were living under my bed. (That particular conference turned into a year-long children’s Sunday School curriculum, during which I slept not, nor did I slumber.) And at the “confrence” described in the above entry, I learned that dreams are no different than real life. Think Freud with an oversized Bible, a paisley tie, and the lingering aroma of baked beans.
2 I did know, actually, but was too scandalized to put it in writing. Darrell had one of those blank journals churchgoers use to write down sermon notes or play MASH with their friends, and the cover of his featured Leonardo da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man.” Which has genitalia. GENITALIA! ::12-year-old self goes to throw up repeatedly::
3 People with genitalia, that is.
4 Oh crappeth.
5 It didn’t. In fact, I played in the orchestra for his wedding, babysat his children, and even worked
under for him one summer during college. However, I never quite recovered from the shock of dreaming I would have to marry a man with genitalia.
(You really should see how hard I’m laughing right now.)
Next time on Mortification Monday: Wedding plans focus back on Igor, with underlining galore!