“Bless me Father—I’ve sinned. Hope this crazy elevator’s goin’ up!”
Monsignor Sourpuss wasn’t pleased. My penance? Latin Mass, 5 a.m. For a goddamn week.
Staying awake was hard. That bench was harder. Sister Mary Katherine played ‘Ave Maria’ or whatever on the organ. She’d nod. I’d turn the page.
Below: grandmas in black knelt in foggy incense. Sunrise always signaled communion. They must’ve planned it.
Most nuns had Kleenex up the sleeve. Mary Kate had Virginia Slims. Got a ride in her VW once. Smelled like nail polish remover. She played that clutch like the organ—played Janis Joplin 8-tracks.
Nice.
My ma used to smoke Virginia Slims.
It was the hip, chic ’70s brand targeted at “liberated” women, right? My first grade teacher at parochial school smoked ’em.
fun read with nicely drawn nun – penguins are people, too!
Penguins! I should’ve used that instead of nuns (except habits were going out of style at that time.) Thanks for reading, Lee. Catholics: the originators of “creative sentencing”, eh? Well…them and the Romans. 🙂
I really enjoyed this one, but I wish you would tell the true story of Little Johnny and the falling books on his 1st? grade nun-such. love you, John
Ouch! Poor, innocent Mrs. Dugan, the pensioner-substitute, possibly widowed, poor, struggling, half-senile, out of her element, conked near-cold with a dictionary, wig-less, mortified, never to set foot in a classroom of infernal, stampeding 6-year-olds again. Weren’t I an angel? Got off scott-free that time. Miss you, Lady Blades!