The Dive Bar Welcomes: The Challah Craver

Today we have The Challah Craver. What? Do you have something against a person who likes carbs? Whatever..... Judgey.....

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Unlike Jill, I am a Christian.

*GASP*

I know.

Her Jewfro is a magical force to be reckoned with-yet, I find myself drawn to the pull of a 2,000+ year old man who’s general compassion for mankind and insightful nature is a total turn-on to my soul.

Yep. Talkin’ ‘bout Jesus.

Ok.

So, all joking aside, as a fence-riding Christian for the past ten years, I’ve found myself in some pretty heavy situations that have left me, recently, dealing with even heavier issues from the little people I’m responsible for raising.

“Don’t you believe in Jesus?”

“Yep.”

“Doesn’t Jesus say the Bible is the Word of God?”

“Yep.”

“Doesn’t the Bible say you’re supposed to married before you live with and have sex with someone?”

*Sigh*… “Yep”

And then there was celibacy.

Yes. Celibacy.

As in…two adults living in the same house, making the decision to commit emotionally & spiritually to the future of their relationship (and hopeful marriage) without sex.

And so on the second year…there was man (blue-balled and unbelieving and yet, thoroughly supportive of his woman’s conviction and emotional need to heal) and woman (who had used sex since her childhood as a way of fixing EVERYTHING) and they saw that it was Not. Good.

And celibacy was the solution.

Ensuring that SHE knew that HE loved her for more than just the “fix” was more important than the “fix” itself: they made the decision to commit their relationship to a life of celibacy.

It is NOT a life choice that everyone will get. I’m not asking for your understanding. This is simply an intro to the story.

Ok, so here we go.

As part of the “celibacy program”, it was decided that all sexual “relief” would happen on our own.

Yeah.

Nice.

I know.

Ugh.

Anyway.

So….

Recently, there was a “flash opportunity” where boobs where involved; however, the toddler woke up and walked out—At. That. Moment.

We’ve decided to say that “someone” was “Cross-Blocked” instead of “cock-blocked”.

Ha!

Which lead to the ultimate statement… “Jesus is a dick!”

Yeah.

Maybe.

But still...

Then, this evening…Mommy (me) had some “alone” time in the bath tub with my “friend”. We’ll call him “B.O.B.”

And, for grins & giggles, let’s just say that Mommy had a very “relaxing” bath.

Mmmmkay?

Ok, good.

So when “B.O.B.” was done providing services to Mommy he was dismissed to the bathroom floor.

And what did Mommy do?

She fucking forgot he was there.

Stupid bitch.

So when she stepped out of the bath…all relaxed, and tipsy from a couple of GOBLETS of wine, she stepped on him, slipped, sprained her ankle, almost smacked her head on the side of the tub & got a concussion.

Really?!

Dear Jesus…is it not enough that at 34 years old, I’ve given up sex with the man I love to live within your word. But I also have to consider that should I relieve my stress levels with B.O.B. I take the risk of breaking an ankle and getting a concussion…as well as feeling guilty??? So not cool. Please advise.

Yours truly,

The Challah Craver 

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