Happy Epiphany to the new moms out there. Here is a special carol I wrote for you as you gratefully celebrate your own miracles of life at seemingly every hour of the morning throughout cold and flu season. (You may recall the Tudor tradition of celebrating Twelfth Night with a festival of silliness and topsy-turvydom. This is that.)
Day: January 6, 2017
Fandom crossover: Pretend everybody in the U.S. is sorted into one of the three branches of government, like Hogwarts houses.
1. What branch are you? (Legislative, obviously.)
2. What sigil do you wear? (I’m going with a dome. All hail dome.)
3. What was your sorting process like? (Took a bus to the Lincoln Monument, age 18, where the statue spoke in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Daniel Day Lewis, which only I could hear. Then the reflecting pool flashed a color – let’s say red light for legislative, blue light for executive, white light for judicial.)
Optionally, there is a fourth house, the fourth estate.
Lauren says: judicial, scales, sat on lincoln’s lap like santa claus
Courtney says: Executive, the eagle, the Flying Spaghetti Monster announced it over the intercom at college
Kate says: I was going to say fourth estate – press – but then I remembered how judgey I am, so I’ll say judicial. My sigil is a bolt of lightning shaped like an “N” because I’m always en-lightening people about how wrong they are. (See what I did there?) My sorting process probably involved a lot of eye rolling, sighing, and reluctant pointing towards a courthouse.