Fundie Housemate has managed to royally piss me off.
We're in the kitchen, me, Husband, and FH. Husband asks if FH has heard from Husband's grandma on Facebook, and when FH says no, not lately, how is she, etc., the following chaos and mayhem ensues:
HUSBAND: She and I have been chatting a lot on the phone during my commute home. We were having a great theological conversation last week -
ME: (focuses on Tater Tots, wondering why in the names of the Gods Husband has opened this door)
FH: Let me tell you about my God! My God made your God. MY God blah blah blah
ME: (stabs Tater Tots with spatula in an effort not to do the same to FH)
FH: Blah blah Jeebus blee blee One Twue God blergh
HUSBAND: Well, we know you feel that way, but we don't.
FH: Blah blee etc. so forth
ME: (finally having gotten my hand to release the spatula) I AM LEAVING THIS ROOM. I HAVE BEEN INSULTED.
FH: (somewhat less stridently) Well, I didn't mean to insult anyone...
REALLY. YOU DIDN'T. BECAUSE THERE'S ANOTHER WAY ONE COULD TAKE "MY GOD MADE YOUR GOD", ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE OF MY GODS AT ALL.
I then demanded that we watch "The Wicker Man" and texted Evn* about how I was going to look for this old Irish spell I've seen involving butter (since FH can't keep his grubby little mitts off mine, this would just be too awesomely appropriate), and how FH had better hope I don't find it before we manage to get out of here. Husband, upon a subsequent trip to the kitchen, was apologized to by FH, who, of course, still has no idea why what he said was rude as hell. I'm waiting for yet another run-in that will end with my shouting about how while SOME gods hang for nine days and bring back runes, HIS died after only a day or so and still hasn't come back, so who's the beyotch now?
Yes, I know. I am a bad, immature, mean witch and I should be the bigger person and all that. He lives in a shared house with whoever can afford to rent, is on a fixed income, and doesn't really appear to have any true friends. He has limited theological understanding of his own religion and absolutely none of any other faith. His moping every time I don't do what he wishes tells me he has problems with women, which probably explains the lack of any romantic companionship. So really, would it do any good to say, "Look, I have a pretty great life that comes from my own hard work, true, but also largely from the blessings of my Gods. What's your God doing for you, considering that what I see of your life is pretty sad?" Do I really think he'd have an epiphany, maybe deepen his spirituality, stop looking for other people or deities to save him from whatever, or even just shut his blithering piehole until next Sunday or so?
Sigh - no. No, I do not. He's basically just a large, annoying toddler and should be treated as such. I just wish his Big Divine Parent would come, get him out of the way of the grownups, and give him a time-out or something.
*It occurs to me that I should get and learn to use Twitter so that poor Evn isn't the only one who's subject to these little electronic outbursts.