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So, here’s what they suggest doing.

In the contrarian spirit of Saint Jerome, whose feast it was first, here are some alternative ideas:

Put a WWJDrive bumper sticker on your 15-passenger van.

Tell a girl that growing up to be a wife and mommy is an interesting and intellectually satisfying thing to do.

Buy a boy an AirSoft gun, some genuine lead soldiers, and a miniature Mass set.

Remind yourself that the entire world isn’t twenty-two years old, and that looking and acting your age is not a sign of dementia.

Admit that you don’t know who Jon and Kate are, much less care what they do.

Shop at Wal-Mart.

Drink some instant coffee, some Hawaiian Punch, and/or some jug wine.

Do something for the sole reason that your husband would like it.

Wear a pro-life t-shirt.

Admit that you hated reading Lolita.

Put a disposable diaper on that baby.

Wave a Confederate battle flag (it’s one way to get people to talk to you).

Stay married.

Sing “Onward, Christian Soldiers.”

Don’t work out.

This would also be a good day to recite the Divine Praises as a subversive gesture.

(With many thanks to my group of friends who’ve been sending around their own “alternative blasphemy” suggestions. This is my contribution to that conversation.)

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