Mom, Poncho, and I went to the Easter Vigil Mass and I don’t really want to talk about it (Father Bill wore shoes– main sign that something was wrong.) (Of course there were other things, but like I said I don’t want to go there and anyway, Jesus is risen even with Disney Princess music, as the DHFs called it.) except for the good parts.
We got there really early because a) Mom and b) it’s usually crowded. Poncho was very anxious to see the fire being lit outside (they light a fire to light the Paschal Candle to light all the other candles etc etc etc) so he asked me about it a million times. Along with, “when does it start?” because his Ninjago watch apparently didn’t get to accessorize his Easter outfit. He also made our candles sword-fight each other. (I admit that I made mine sword-fight back. Also, jousting. With very quiet hoofbeat sound-effects from Ponch.)
Then finally I had a sneeze attack (luckily I know how to sneeze silently) (I learned to do this because of church but also because of how in movies whenever they’re hiding from the evil person someone always sneezes and I don’t want that to be me.) and we sent Poncho to get me some tissues from the bathroom, and also to look out the back door and see if the fire was lit. He came back empty-handed, and informed me that the fire was “lame”.
Me: “If you become a priest, you can light a bigger one.”
Him: “Can I make a bonfire if I’m Pope?”
Me: “Uhh. Okay. Sure.”
Then Mass finally started, in darkness. Poncho saw the Paschal Candle being carried in through the church, turned to me, and shout-whispered “FIYAH!!!” as we all got our candles lit.
Poncho: (whispering to me) “Hey. Hey. Hey.”
Me: “Shh. Stop. They’re doing the reading.”
Poncho: “Hey. Hey.”
Poncho: “Put our candles together so it makes a bigger flame.”
So I did it for one second and tried not to laugh. A few minutes went by, and then out of the corner of my eye I saw Poncho’s candle sneaking over to mine. I drew mine away. Then he proceeded to turn his candle sideways and swish it around to make it smoke, and in an attempt to cause the wax to drip.
And I heard Poncho whisper, “yes!” as a drip fell at last from his candle.
Poncho: “Hey. Psst. Hey.”
Me: “What now?”
Poncho: “Do you… want to… trade candles with me? Oh, no, of course not. Of course you don’t. Your candle is much better than mine.”
Me: ??? “Later. Pay attention.”
Of course this is all classic Poncho. A boy who always has to play with fire…