An old Irish story tells of a farm woman who set out on the road, walking at a brisk pace.|
"Where are you going Maureen?" a neighbor woman asked.
"I'm going to Galway," said Maureen.
"Be careful," the neighbor warned. "You should say, 'I'm going to Galway, God willing.'"
"Stuff and nonsense," said Maureen. "I'm going to Galway and sure that's the whole of the matter."
God thereupon waxed sorely pissed. He turned the poor woman into a frog and deposited her in a swamp
with a few thousand other frogs, and there he left her for seven long, long years.
All she heard or said for those dreary years consisted of "Gribbit! Gribbit! Gribbit!"
and an occasional more classical "Koax, koax, koax!"
Everything she saw was dank and dark, like a scene from Poe, and all she had to eat were flies.
"It's enough to bother a body," she thought mournfully on many a miserable and rainy day.
At the end of seven years, God relented and allowed Maureen to resume a human form.
She immediately climbed out of the swamp, washed her clothes, and hung them on a traditional hickory limb.
When everything was dry, the good woman dressed herself again and started out on the road once more.
"Where are you going, Maureen?" asked another neighbor.
"To Galway," she said, "or back to that damned swamp with the frogs."
(Diety affronted by impiety)