I Guess I Spoke Too Soon

On my last post, I dared to declare that "my apostasy from the LDS church has been without major incident".

I guess I spoke too soon.

Okay, so what happened over the weekend wasn't really a "major" incident, but it was an incident nonetheless.

Last week, I stopped by the state liquor store and picked up a couple of bottles of "Grampa's cough medicine." Granted, I've never been a big drinker, but I like the occasional alcohol-induced buzz as much as the next [non-LDS] fellow, so I didn't see the harm in it. I picked up a bottle of Crown Royal for a friend of mine and a bottle of Boone's Farm Melon Ball for me. (I can't stand the taste of regular beer and can only drink the stuff that tastes good...I've been accused of drinking "chick" beers.)

My only mistake was failing to inform my wife that I had done this...or that I was going to do this. (Isn't it better to ask for forgiveness than for permission anyway?)

I brought the Boone's Farm into the house and had a small glass on Friday night while the Missus was away at work. It tasted alright, but I didn't drink enough for a buzz. I figured she would see the bottle tucked into the door of the fridge and that if she was bothered by it, she'd let me know right away.

Nothing was said the next day, so I assumed everything was okay. Before we left for the family Christmas party that evening, I poured myself another half glass of the bright green liquid. My vulture of a son immediately began to hover over me asking for a sip.

"This isn't for you, son. It's only for me."

"But why daddy?"

"Because some drinks are only for adults and this is one of them."

My wife, who was sitting at the kitchen table in the next room overheard this and raised her eyebrow. Apparently, she hadn't seen the bottle in the fridge yet.

"What is it?" She asked with what could only be described as a question born out of a natural curiousity.

"A wine drink I bought a couple days ago."

"Oh."

Then she let the matter drop...until we climbed into bed just before midnight on Christmas Eve.

I could tell that something was bothering her, so I asked her to tell me what that something was.

She broke into tears and told me how much it bothered her that I had brought a bottle of [3%] alcohol into our home. Her concern was that I had broken a promise to not start drinking or smoking (you know, all the usual stuff us evil church apostates tend to do once we realize Mormonism is based on lies and perpetual deception) and that I would become a raging alcoholic and thus abusive to her and the kids.

For some reason I began my defense with: "but I'm a very friendly drunk."

This is true.

I've seen some people get crazy and mean when they've over-imbibed on the hard stuff, but I'm at the opposite end of the drunken spectrum. When I'm buzzing, everybody around me becomes my best friend. If anything, having the occasional drink would help me be a little nicer to my kids...they really know how to push my buttons and obviously have no reservations about doing so on a daily basis.

Anyway, I told her that I didn't see what the big deal was since the oppressive rules of Mo-ism no longer applied to me and that I was free to make these kinds of decisions without any fear. I tried to explain to her how wonderful it feels to be free of church influences and all their ridiculous little rules, but she was having difficulty wrapping her head around the concept.

We talked until about 3 in the morning, all the while knowing that Christmas morning was rapidly approaching and we'd soon have to get up with the kids who would all be anxious to start unwrapping presents.

The conversation ended well (they usually do - she really is a very understanding and loving woman) and we finally went to sleep.

I still have a long way to go to help her realize the truth about the roots of Mormonism, but she's resisting...she's happier believing the lie, even if she's aware of the probability that it's a lie.

This is what the church does to people.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need a drink...