I want to call them, the bobbing heads.
Though, that does not seem right.
Perhaps, it is in they way they crawl in on Saturday.
Or, the manner, in which they pray on Sunday.
One could search all theologies for a term.
Yet, the ‘randomly selective church’ goer is the best…designation…I have heard.
Always donning, unnatural colors.
A forever remembrance to someone’s elderly mother.
Course, I was dragged to the pew…many times.
Even now, it is a reminder of overkill nursery rhymes.
Poetically, Buffet, puts it best…
‘between Saturday night and Sunday morning there lies a very thin line.’
Definition of the Bobbing Head:
Anyone who will say and/or do anything…to get them through the night. Or, at least…heaven, as they understand it to be!