Prayer Antics and Voodoo Doo Doo


Yesterday the boyf and I were invited to his mums as she wanted to arrange for the baby and I to be prayed for. I don't claim to be the most religious person on earth but I'm not naive enough to not recognise that a bit of positivity and prayer certainly isn't the worst thing that could happen at this particular point in my life. It did occur to me that I should ask the boyf what it entailed...and promptly forgot about it...

So when we were in Sainsbury's grabbing breakfast on the way to his mum's, I didn't think anything of it when he picked up a bottle of cod liver oil that his mum had just asked him to buy...

An hour or so later, I'm sitting with the pastor with a rather bemused look on my face as he goes through the prayers. The boyf and I at this point had stopped catching each other's eyes for fear that we'd have a fit of the giggles. The pastor was lovely but he did keep praying for a speedy birth and the boyf and I were cacking ourselves. I will be 36 weeks this week and as excited as we are about the baby, we have not moved yet (don't start me on those mutherfoccacia [stole that word from David Gest..] estate agents and solicitors) and I haven't even had my antenatal classes, which start this week.

"Pastor, we don't actually want to have the baby this week... NML's not even quite 36 weeks yet..." the boyf said with a terrified look on his face and then his mum, the boyf and I collapsed in giggles.
"The baby will arrive when it wants to!"
"Er, it'll arrive when I say it will!" I quipped and we laughed even harder.
"My wife went into labour early and started screaming. I was running around in a panic in the middle of the night trying to get dressed and poof, the baby had arrived ten minutes later!" This is one of those classic occasions when men talk out of their bums and EXAGGERATE. If he'd actually had to push the baby out himself, I am pretty sure that he would know the real amount of time it took! The boyf's mum looked at me and cracked up laughing at my face.
If he hadn't been a pastor, I'm would have wisecracked about some of us having bigger fannies than other's but instead I said "Ten minutes? I'm sure it was longer than that... Maybe she let you sleep through most of the labour.... I suspect that our baby isn't planning a ten minute passage...It's not even the right way around at the moment!"

Things slipped into a momentary nightmare a few minutes later when the bottle of cod liver oil got whipped out. He'd mentioned something about me having it but denial had made me believe that he was taking the piss... He asked the boyf's mum to get spoons and I thought she'd come back with teaspoons and instead she returned with what appeared to be the biggest table spoons in the frigging world. I clutched the boyf in panic and tried to block out the memories of my grandmother giving us cod liver oil and the bro and I screaming the place down and spitting it out as soon as her back was turned. It is one of the most vile things in the world! Black folk man! The older generation have an unhealthy fascination with cod liver oil, liver, pigs feet, carnation milk and Guiness...

The spoon approached my mouth and I hastily grabbed at my nose and let it go into my mouth. Fishy wishy horrid rank stuff. I froze and then tried to swallow. It went down for a moment and then I retched and had to will myself not to throw up everywhere. NEVER AGAIN! Apparently cod liver oil lubricates you for birth...I take it he's never heard of KY Jelly....

Of course, I told my mum that we'd been at the boyf's mum for prayers and I howled with laughter when she had the cheek to suggest that it was a superstitious thing and demanded to know if it had been something dodge like voodoo!

"Ma, you need to stay off the crack!"
"Don't you be cheeking me!"
"Well you do! Give me some bleedin credit to know when I'm in a voodoo friggin session! It was private prayer with a bit of cod liver oil thrown in for good measure and that's just for health purposes."
"Cod liver FECKING oil!" she roared. "Hmmm, I hope you know what you're doing!"
"Oh I see, so when you pray for me everyday should I be calling you a voodoo queen?" I countered. And before she could add anything else, I pulled out the piece de resistence. "And I seem to remember that it was YOU that kept trying out different churches last year and didn't even realise that one of them was full of dodgy voodoo people! You're lucky that the boyf and his mum pointed that out to you!"

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