Subourbon Mom

The other day, television evangelist Pat Robertson said demonic spirits can attach themselves to some objects. “I don’t think every sweater you get from Goodwill has demons in it,” he said, “but it isn’t going to hurt you any to rebuke any spirits that might attach themselves to those clothes.”

Well, that explains a couple of thongs and bras I wear that have minds of their own.

The idea that demons can attach themselves to objects isn’t new. I saw The Amityville Horror, so I get the whole haunted house thing. And Stephen King’s Christine was pretty creepy, even though the premise was a little weird. But really—clothes? And why did he mention clothes that are second-hand? What about clothes that are new? Can demons attach themselves to those, too?

Clearly, I’ve got to re-think my shopping strategy…no longer can I just peruse the stores and buy what I need as soon as it goes on sale. Now I’ve got to carry a small vial of Holy Water and a crucifix. I would love to wave any of those items in front of a pair of jeans I want to purchase and watch what happens. The pockets might turn into demonic eyes, glowing red, and the zipper would slide open, becoming a talking mouth, spewing curses and projectile vomiting on the sweaters carefully stacked below. I’ll bet I could get a really good discount after that! Just imagine strolling through the mall in your possessed jeans, as they rant and rave at all the other people walking by. Now that might even make shopping fun for those (like me) who somehow didn’t get that gene.

If what Mr. Robertson says is true, it would explain a lot of things in my life. I don’t necessarily think whatever possesses my thongs and bras are “demons;” I think they must be some kind of nomadic spirits, because these items seem to wander around my body of their own free will. In fact, I would venture a guess that these spirits are recently-passed Floridians, travelling north when the heat and humidity gets to be too much. Pantyhose spirits would be Snowbirds that migrate south. They would also be male spirits, because no female would make something already uncomfortable even worse.

Sports bras are probably more likely to be possessed by actual demons. They look innocuous enough, but the minute you try to take them off after a workout, they curl up and cling to you like a succubus from a bad science fiction movie. To remove one, short of sprinkling it with Holy Water, you have to contort yourself into a pretzel, nearly dislocating a shoulder in the process.

There must also be a whole troop of young, playful spirits that think its fun to move things from room to room. They are especially fond of concealing reading glasses, socks, earrings and t.v. remotes. For them, it must be a never-ending game of hide-and-seek.

There are teenaged spirits as well. These you could probably call demons, if, like, the mood is right. They favor, like, electronic gadgets, and, like, computers. One minute, these gadgets are like, entertaining, helpful and cooperative; the next, they, like, go dark for no reason at all, refuse to help, and skulk around with one glaring, electric eye.

So maybe Mr. Robertson is right. But I would rather have a family of “demons” in my things than face the fact that I can’t remember where I put anything, I’m technology-repellant, and my body is changing so much these days that nothing fits anymore!