One year I was actually invited by the priest to one of the twelve whose feet he would wash.
About a day or two before Maundy Thursday the light bulb came on and I talked one of my roommates into helping me.
The Mass was in the afternoon so that morning I had talked my roommate into writing on my feet. I happened to have a permanent black marker handy (It took several days to get the writing off).
So that afternoon, I went up to a chair set in front of the altar and removed my shoes and socks. Father Len true to form, shook his head and rambled on ("I see who's playing Judas today." "I wish I had some steel wool.") while he was the feet of the woman in the chair opposite mine.
In hindsight, it was immature. Mass is not the place for jokes and silliness, but I still laugh about it anyways. I can't undo it anyways.
May God bless all who read my ramblings,
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