The Jesus Cup.

So the whole family trekked off to mass on Easter Sunday (photos hopefully forthcoming on the whole Easter thing), including the one member of the family I like to call 'Mass Destruction' - otherwise known as 'Enzo'. Enzo doesn't attend Mass very often, simply because it is not in his nature to sit still or be silent for more than 5 seconds or so.

He actually did fairly well this time, limiting his disruptions to a small blast radius around where we sat. We were prepared - books, notebooks, cars and snacks. No drinks, though. For some odd reason, I find it disrespectful to bring a juicebox into church, I don't know why. But we were smart enough to sit by the bathroom and kitchen, so when he asked for a drink, Sal took him to the kitchen, grabbed a cup, and got a drink at the bathroom faucet. Somehow, that cup, the one we got at church, made its way home with us, and a short time later this conversation ensued:

Enzo (with food in his mouth): Can I have some water in my [inaudible] cup?

Joe: Enzo, what kind of cup?

Enzo (clearly annoyed at having to repeat himself): My Jesus cup!




Don't be fooled. His cuteness is just a luring device to get you close so he can wipe boogers on you.