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looking for Jesus

I can't find my Buddy Christ. BC always travels with us - it's just what we do. Here is BC in Santa Cruz playing Skee-Ball, making a getaway in Tennessee, bowling in Vegas, and checking out some loaves and fishes in a field at Bonarroo.



I haven't seen him since I moved. I'm pretty sure he's someplace Safe, in the little black velvet Sephora bag he travels in. I tore the house apart tonight, because I really can't imagine the honeymoon without photos of BC.

Dennis has offered to keep looking, but he's got enough going on tomorrow, since he's cooking the rehearsal dinner. Of course, this led to me yelling, "look, I know Jesus is around here somewhere but that doesn't mean you have to find him, ok?"

Some things don't work out of context.
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