Jersey Night

Friday evening on the way to church, Mia informed me it was Jersey Night.
I was already self-conscious about my lack of makeup ("It's okay, Mom. I've heard Jesus loves us exactly as we are.") but now this.

I pictured the entire congregation chewing gum loudly and singing with nasally accents. Clouds of cloying perfume would rise heavenward. I wondered if I'd be able to see the priest over everyone's teased hair.

It's a very enthusiastic church. Just how far would they take it?

As it turns out, the attendees seemed too distracted by the impending Super Bowl to get gussied up for Jersey Night. It was sports-team apparell as far as the eye could see. Maybe they all missed the memo, too.

To that, I say thank God.