Kids Do Say the Darndest Things
At one time during my childhood, my mother, siblings, and I used to regularly attend Sunday service. With that weekly dose of holiness, my mother was certain that her children were oozing purity from every pore.
My brother was whipping my sister in the head with a pussy willow on the drive home from church one morning when he gave pause to ask, “Hey Mom, why don’t they give out palms on Palm Sunday?”
“They do,” my mother replied. “They were out of palms by the time we got to the altar. All they had left were the pussy willows.”
My brother thought about that for a moment. Then, with all the innocence of a child who has not yet received a proper public school education (or at least never read the backseat of the bus), he asked, “Well, if they always have enough pussy willows, why don’t they just call it Pussy Sunday?”
My brother, the atheist, bringing people back to the church.