Well, this Tennessee bride couldn’t find something “old”
So she attached her “new” born to her dress-train and dragged it down the aisle:
A new born, living on borrowed time, and soon to be blue …(after it dies – suffocating in chiffon)
Are we being serious here? I legit want to know. Because just a few days ago, some news outlet hoaxed everyone by saying a comet was going to hit on March 35th of 2041. And, much as I would expect them to do (based on comments I’ve gotten on other pieces I’ve written), people just went ahead and commented on the title – not the actual story. It was probably the best piece of journalism I’ve ever seen because it shone a huge scintillating spotlight on readers’ (can I call them that if they don’t actually read?) defects which characterize online culture as a whole. The inability to learn any context before barfing out mental diarrhea. And it was like a stupidity census when they all passed it along as posts with OMG hashtags.
So, since I don’t wanna be like that, I ask: Is this a hoax too? Apparently not. Shona Carter-Brooks described her daughter as being, “Awake, well secured, and covered by Christ.”
I feel like that’s…
Not…
…what Jesus would want.
Like, if he were to come back (a third time), I don’t think that as he fanned himself in the southern heat and basked in his own mystical glow, that he’d be signaling his serene approval of this scene via gentle nod. Do you?
“No, Ashley. ’cause he’d be busy harassing the help”
Ah, that’s not very spiritual of you, person-who-isn’t me.
Y’know, I’ve heard the thing about God helping those who help themselves before. I really like that for grown ass ladies and menfolk. But, ya know I think he/she/numenistic-third-person-omniscient-it-force would like for you to take care of your young until they can take care of themselves. This is hard because “we don’t come with a manual” (parents love that phrase when they fckkup).
That’s why, when I got my first dog, I asked how I should not let him die.
The nice lady who gave me my dog said, “You have to feed him. And wash him. And clean up after him. And love him”. Then my mom added stuff like, “Don’t keep him in a hot car” and “don’t feed him grapes or chocolate.” I didn’t think to ask if dragging him around on the back of a hideous jizz colored frock was part of the “no” list.
Just like I didn’t think to ask if he should go in the microwave after his bath. Or if he would be able to fly like Neverending Story dog if I dropped him from the roof. Somehow, deep down, I felt like I already knew the answers to these things that are just as funny hypothetically as they are gut-wrenchingly horrifying in reality. And I was five. And that was a dog. Abstract acts and resulting laughter doesn’t translate so well when anyone but cartoon canines and babies carry them out.
Oh, I think I’ve got it! (“…New, Borrowed, Blue…”)
“Old”. Very, very old is how Miss Tennessee should be when she finally leaves the penitentiary in which she belongs for this. But if this display is any indication of how she’s meandering through life, she’ll likely land herself there soon enough.