There’s been a big emotional explosion at Le Café Witteveen. Unknown to me before last week, my brother, SiL (sister in law) and dad are all regular readers (hey guys!). I’ve been ignorantly and egregiously beleaguering the lot of them (their views really, but it’s hard not to take that personally) with an insolent blitzkrieg of atheist word bombs. Sometimes I post videos or gather ammunition from other blogs or regular readers, and they act as my New World Order Obama Army of Darkness. Some times I get Julie to sniper rifle a hefty hole in wackaloonery. Or I will get Petursey to sick the dastardly dogs on the matter and cause a sense of dominating dereliction.
[insert cricket sound]
The awakening, however, of my family frequenting Le Café as regulars punched me in the nuts.
On one hand, maybe they lurked because they didn’t want to disrupt the flow. They realized it was my little dirrrrty secret. Or they rubbernecked the trainwreck and they were amazed by the amount of carnage laying around the front doors of Le Café.
On the other hand they lurked because they wanted to know me. And that feels good. Nothing says “I love you” like sifting through someone’s diary and not telling them.