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in the ass back in the day. Not only were they a lot of money, but the damn things were really heavy. Together, JoJo and I would carry one back from the Collinses, three doors down.
    By the time we shuffled back to our house, our little arms were really hurting. It was worth the free candy, though, which is why we always volunteered. Mrs. Collins would send us home with a hoard of chocolate and sugary treats. It must have been her secret sin because my parents never found out about our weekly sugar high. If only Dad’s pocketbook knew where our cavities were actually coming from.
    When we got back to our house, we would drop the anvil of a VCR in the living room and dash into our bedroom. We hid our collective stash under our mattress so we could later feast on chocolate in bed. We would race back downstairs with my Jesus scrapbook in hand, excited about our next religious viewing.
    Sometimes my dad’s friend George would join us for movie nights. Well, he would more like interrupt our movie nights, if you were to ask my mom. I think my dad must have organized it that way to get out of watching Jesus movies. George would show up with beer and snacks and plant himself on the couch to start his usual offensive commentary. Mom would eventually shoot my dad a stern look, and then Dad would haul him into the kitchen like a performer being caned off the stage. Dad didn’t seem to mind this routine.
    George was an atheist, but he was still welcome in our house. Mom explained that even though he annoyed her at times and had a different belief system, he was a good person with a big heart. My mom, the most religious person in our family, was accepting nonbelievers into our home. I liked that!
    One night, we kicked off family night with King of Kings (1961). It was amazing that George hadn’t said a word five minutes into the film. That was a record. I was actually disappointed; I enjoyed the levity he brought to our house. I noticed that he was starting to doze off, so I nudged his jiggly chest to jolt him awake. I smiled as he began watching again.
    “Are you shitting me?” George came to life as he slapped his thigh and chuckled to himself. He reminded me of John Candy in Uncle Buck , only a bit more colorful and pear-shaped. “All seven of ’em gladiators had perfect shots? C’maaannn.” He grabbed a fistful of popcorn and shoved it all into his mouth, chewing wildly as half fell out onto the floor. He grabbed a stack of our Jesus VHS tapes and started to look through them.
    “ Jesus of Nazareth . Holy shitballs, six hours? Hoo hoo hoooo,” George laughed. He had eyes like Rodney Dangerfield.
    Mom shot Dad her classic menacing stare to take George out of the room. Dad shot up perkily off the La-Z-Boy and summoned George to mosey on over into the kitchen. I was on to them and their master plan, and so was Mom. She rolled her eyes as she sank back into the sofa to enjoy God cinema with her four girls.
    Ding-dong .
    “Who is that?” said Amy.
    “Mallory’s coming over for the movie, remember?” my mom replied.
    JoJo and I looked at each other with a finger pointing inside our throats. We couldn’t stand Mallory. She was so pretentious. But Mom didn’t care. She pretty much allowed anyone into her home.
    “Hi, Mallory. How’s your family?” my mom asked.
    “They’re very well. Thank you, Mrs. McCarthy,” she said with a sweet smile.
    “That’s nice. I’ll go fix you girls some snacks,” my mom said as she left the room.
    “You’re such a brownnoser,” I had to say to her.
    “Takes one to know one,” she replied quickly.
    Mallory walked over to our pile of Jesus tapes and grabbed Jesus of Nazareth .
    “Put this one on,” Mallory said assertively as she shoved it in the VCR.
    “Get real. We don’t want to sit with you for six hours,” said Amy.
    Mallory pulled out a Bible from her overnight bag. JoJo and I face-palmed ourselves when we realized she was sleeping over.
    “Oh no, my mom’s babysitting