God and Sex
My father went to heaven every Sunday morning after he had packed the bloody kids off to church. It was the only time he could get bouncy with the missus, without a heard of offspring cramping his style.

We learned about bells and smells, and looked forward to Easter when Father Danvers dolled out the cream eggs, and the week before when we had sword fights on the way home with the straw crosses that looked like rapiers. I think that was what they were for.

Anyway, back home the old man would be hoovering the stairs with a cheesy smirk on his fizzer. Obviously a result. Sometimes the old lady had a black eye instead, and we knew we had to be good for Sunday dinner, instead of the usual riot.

Being innocent and seven at the time all this seemd normal. I only found out the reason behind our weekly tie up with God when my elder brother told me a few years later, and the penny dropped.

Since then I think my relationship with the big fellah has been a bit one sided. He loves us all, and I think he is a cnut.

Still like hymns though.
( Bartleby A dead man on vacation, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 12:53, 2 replies)

'when Father Danvers dolled out the cream eggs'
A euphemism if ever there was one.
( girlinthehole, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 13:01, closed)

Not in this case, it was a bucket
He was a swinging vicar (late 1960's and early 70's) I do believe he got himself kicked out for the shagging a woman other than his wife. Dead now, I remember his obit in the Telegraph.
( Bartleby A dead man on vacation, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 13:12, closed)