In Search Of The Perfect Penance

Our Lent began not with a bang, but with a wet, hacking cough and some half-burnt fish sticks.

We decided to keep the contagion to ourselves, sitting out the evening Mass. I'm not sure how we'll make the Stations of the Cross each Friday night. Leaving the house that late guarantees long car naps and, by extension, a sleepless night of kid wrangling for me.

Maybe I have found the perfect Lenten penance, after all.