Like a friend that you haven't seen in ages, Innocence Mission comes back around to say hi to us every once in awhile. Their visits are always welcome, and they are very polite and courteous guests. They take off their shoes, they never spill their tea on the carpet, and they always offer to help clean up the dishes. They never speak ill of others, and they always say 'please' and 'thank you.' They're not too happy, but certainly not sad. They are religious, but not too religious. They donate to charity, they volunteer their time for good causes, and they always recycle… and about twenty minutes into their visit, it suddenly dawns on you that the reason you never call them is because they are utterly boring.

This pains you, because you genuinely like them. Hell, who doesn't like them? But your thoughts start drifting from the conversation. Your smile begins to wane, and you try desperately to cling to the fun memories you used to have with them, but nothing comes to mind, which depresses you even more. Evil thoughts race through your mind of throwing them out, or shouting profanities at them, or stabbing a knife through someone's foot—anything to liven up the scene. You try to think of an excuse to end the visit short, but you don't want to be rude. Alas, you resolve to just sitting there and smiling in half stupor until they eventually leave. You give each other polite hugs and help them with their coats on the way out the door… finally. But you and I both know that the next time they come around again, you'll be just as happy as ever to see them.