Not to make light of religion or afflictions…but I think I may have church-related tourette’s syndrome. When I get nervous, I curse a blue streak. My usual curses are in the range of church-related words, which I will not use here as to not offend readers. 
So, with our eight hour long church-hosted marriage prep class this upcoming Saturday, I am a bit worried. During our interview with the priest, I honestly said, “Oh God…I don’t know” about four times. In a half an hour. What kind of atrocities will come flowing out of my mouth in EIGHT HOURS?? Sure, I do have some self-control, but honestly, when I get nervous, I look down, clasp Mr. Kiwi’s hand, and curse to myself. I have never been more nervous than I am in a church, since I’ve been in one about five times in my whole life.
For fear of embarrassing Mr. Kiwi, I will try to keep my mouth shut as much as possible, but maaaan, sometimes I need to talk. I’m a little unsure of what actually happens in an eight-hour marriage prep class, but the warning to bring a pen and pencil and a soft cushion (!!!!!) leaves me a bit uneasy!
Readers, keep your fingers crossed that I won’t somehow get us banned from the church–my potty mouth may be the death of me.
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