Last night for some reason Mr reread and I were talking about religion and why I disagree with so many fundamental elements of so many religions. It got me thinking about if I have ever believed in God, any type or form of 'a' god. I do remember being quite apprehensive about the whole thing for a while when I was young (we're talking under ten years here) - I remember 'praying' on a few occasions, more of an insurance policy 'just in case'.
I told Mr reread about my first experience with religion and it goes a little something like this...
It was 1985, a backwater little town named Bethanga and I was in prep. My mum, a card-carrying atheist, daughter of a chemical engineer and man of science, outlined that I was not to partake in any religious educations lessons. Apparently Mrs Shubert, an Assemblies of God woman on a mission thought that I looked like a child in need of a little guidance.
Mum discovered Mrs Schubert's extracurricular religious activities while I was sitting on the kitchen table and asked, "why do I have a black heart and the other girls have pink hearts with pearls on them". Now, I was a real a talker, a babbler and I was known to utter some absolute rot, but this, my mother thought was a bit far-fetched.
After some gentle interrogation it was established that Mrs Schubert had approached me while I was in the school yard with my knitting nancy and had imparted some 'fear of God'.
Card-carrying atheist mother goes to principal and discusses the situation. Then she leaves, but only after her head spun around and she projectile vomited on the carpet.
Mr 1985 backwater-Principal was understanding but ultimately a little bit fucking useless - Mrs Schubert was still loitering in the school yard. Mrs Schubert also took it upon herself to call anti-christ mother harassing and asking "what happened to you as child to make you like this?"
Queue fiery wrath of enraged mother - this is where she spider-walks, backwards down the stairs and writes a letter to the Education Minister. We never heard from Mrs Schubert again, I guess she went off somewhere to sing Kumbaya and prepare bland, starchy meals for her family whom she dressed in skivvies.
Knitting nancy here.