The next time the Jehovah’s Witnesses knock on our front door they’re in for a surprise. I don’t suppose they get many; never had a stab at it myself but I imagine their days are full of rejection, don’t you? Everything from polite but peremptory acceptance of the leaflet (yes, yes I’ll be sure to look it over, thank you) to profanity.
It can’t sit too comfortably with them that the words they’re most likely to hear when they rock up to introduce the belief that theirs is the one true Christian faith are “oh christ”.
They’ll have hit the jackpot when they ring our bell to ask if we’ve been thinking about Jesus, though probably not in a manner they could have foreseen.
“Thinking about him?” I’d spit, eyes raging.
“I’ve been thinking about nothing else all morning. That lock on the back door still needs sorting out properly and the rust spot in the bath isn’t getting any smaller. What is the point of having a mobile phone if you never pick up?”
At this point there’d be a glance exchange between (the inevitable two of) them, perhaps the deployment of a pre-arranged “safe” word More