“Lets all say grace,” my grandmother says. This practice is not something I particularly enjoy, and I usually just grin and bear it, but did I fail to mention that we are in the middle of a Taco Bell? At times I question my family’s motives. Do they do this because they are actually interested in blessing their food, or because they want to make it known to the other enjoyers of Gordita’s surrounding us, that they are in fact, Christian, and therefore, worthy of being looked up to? At the same time, I wonder how red my face is turning. In a recent phone call with my grandmother, she ended our conversation by saying, “just trust in God.” What she doesn’t know is that after a heated debate in my twelfth grade argumentation class about creation vs. Evolution, I made the decision that God does not exist. After a lifetime of encouraging church attendance, initiating Bible study, and trying to steer me in the “right” direction, I would hate to break her heart by informing her that she failed with me. I munch on my nachos and for yet another day, allow my family to think what they would like about me. Taco Bell is no place for serious discussion anyway.