Mass, a wreck, and lunch...

Getting ready on Sunday morning for church was semi-reminiscent of my childhood/teenage years.  It's been a long time since I've lived/shared a bathroom with Andy.  I always forget that he's slower moving than a girl.  (It probably doesn't help that I'm pretty fast moving for a girl.  Although, I probably am able to get ready quickly as a direct result of sharing a bathroom with A for all those years.  He only left me ten minutes every morning!)

Regardless, we left Dad's a little after we were supposed to, but got to the church a little before the service, so all is well, right?

This was my first mass in English.  I've been to at least five misas spoken in Spanish (several in Spain and at least two here in Culiacán), but never to one in the US.  Strike that.  I think a second cousin thrice removed or some such got married in a Catholic church.  Would that have made it a mass?  I was really young, though, and the only thing I remember from that trip was meeting some NY cousins (also removed), a swimming pool, and my aunt Betsey commented on the lace around my ankle socks.  Oh man, remember the days of dresses, black patent leather Mary Janes and lacy white ankle socks.

Anyway, I don't remember that mass, so this one was my first mass where I could pay attention.  Aside from everyone else knowing what to repeat and when, it seemed like most other church services I've been to.
As this was my first service, I'm ill-equipped to explain what went on, but dad got confirmed (?) into the Catholic church.  Andy and I were both fortunate enough to be able to be there, and PK and Mer were on their way to join us for lunch afterward.

As we left the church, Andy was on his phone.  We walked to the car and he said, "PK and Mer totaled their car.  I don't think they're going to make it."

Luckily, Andy had mentioned it so nonchalantly.  He had also phrased it that they had totaled their car and not they were in a wreck.  I know these are minor details, but it somehow made me feel like it had been an inconvenience for them, not a life-jarring experience.

Patrick, knowing me better than myself apparently, asked Suzanne when talking to her if I were around so he could tell me.  He knew how freaked out I would be if I weren't told in the right way.  Love that.

Little did he know, Andy in his own way had made it no big deal for me.
We made our way to Olde Stone Country Club for lunch and was it delicious!  I saw beside Honey, who I hadn't seen since at least the summer.  Maybe before.  We enjoyed lots of delicious American food and equally incredible dessert.

We all caravanned back to the house and got into comfortable clothes.  This trip home was great for so many reasons.  Namely because I got to see all of my immediate family.  However, there were other benefits as well.  Bringing some things home from Mexico was a nice plus.  The timing of this trip was perfect as well for my haircut in Bowling Green.  I usually get it cut every three months.  I had it cut at Christmas and was going to wait until I got home in July or else suck it up and get it cut in Mexico.  However, here it is April and I'm in Bowling Green!  It was meant to be.  Now I'll be back in July just in time for my pre-first day of school cut.

As if I had not eaten too much at Olde Stone, I went to town on the chocolate Dad always makes sure to have around: almond M's, Ghirardelli dark chocolate and chocolate and caramel squares, other fun size candy bars, and all the leftover stuff from the party the night before.