I am scarred for life.
So we went to Mass tonight and beforehand the choir sang some carols and other pieces.
Everything was going well. The music director started singing a song that was nice. I wasn’t really paying too close attention to the words (I have an almost OCD compulsion that I have to flip through the missalette before mass- without fail) when all over a sudden I heard something.
I leaned over to MrBunny and asked “Did he just say something about Mary’s breasts?”
“Yes he did.”
I started paying better attention and sure enough the words of the song were “Mary’s breasts fed the savior of the world”.
You read that correctly. Trust me. I know because by this point I was completely focused on the dude singing. I kept thinking that surely I had heard him wrong. But I hadn’t.
He was singing a song about Mary breastfeeding- I’m sure there was other points but that’s all I could hear at that point.
Now I have no problem with breastfeeding, and not usually that much of a prude but for some reason the image of Mary and her knockers was making me a little uncomfortable. I started getting a little squirmy. And of course MrBunny is a boy of the 13 year old variety so he just kept giggling.
After mass we went to dinner with our friends (we had gone to a Methodist service with them earlier and then they went to mass with us) I asked them if they had noticed the song about Mary’s boobs.
Of course they had.
And now of course they won’t let me forget it. All night they kept bringing up Mary’s funbags.
It’s sort of amusing because during the homily the priest (who has this Irish lilt that is about the most soothing thing you could ever hear… I need to have him make me a recording or something that I can play when I can’t sleep) was talking about how there are the smallest of memories that can hurtle us back to Christmases of the past.
I fear that this Christmas will now be forever remembered as the year that had “that song about the BVM’s boobies”.
I think I need to enlist the help of a professional.