Mea Culpa

Oh, look, I found the computer. Amazing, since I can't find the sofa, the floor or Teddy. We have our Christmas box out, Sister St. Aloysius is counting the sheep (as opposed to counting sheep, something we never have to do around here).

I love going through the Christmas box. I have an old Santa that belonged to my mother. She doesn't know I have it. I'm sure she doesn't mind. I have bubble lights. I mentioned to someone once that I love those things and people have gifted me with them ever since. Delightful. Word gets out.

Getting ready for the big day. Lots to do in the church. Arranging the poinsettias and whatnot. Extra polishing.

It's the kind of work I've always loved because not only am I a Christmas fanatic from a long line of Christmas fanatics, but these happy chores allow for a lot of soul searching. A great pastime.

Here's what's on my mind: I've noticed that once in a while, here in blogland, I seem to rub people the wrong way. And while it's not my intention to be rude, apparently I am just that.

I apologize.

I doubt I'll stop being rude, however. Not because I want to run around being rude, but since I'm not trying to be rude, I never realize that I have been impolite or caustic or venomous. Sometimes the news is bad. I'm not helping anybody by sugarcoating someone's half baked idea that is sure to be a one way ticket to hell with "let's agree to disagree". I'm a nun. I don't have time to horse around with your soul telling you things that will make you feel better. I've had you since you were in the second grade and I've watched you on the play ground since you were five. I have taken away your gum, mopped up your up chuck, made you clap erasers together for an hour after school, sent you home to change into more appropriate attire, made you stand in the corner ...

...I was never a nose on the chalkboard nun....I never made anyone kneel on dried peas, either, although I admit I thought that was a doozey!...

given you my hanky when you forgot your chapel veil, raised money for pagan babies by catching you taking the Lord's name in vein, made you write a hundred times, "I will not be late for school." I also made sure you knew your times tables. That's no fun either. All in a day's work.

I don't blink for one minute about making you feel guilty, guilty, guilty. Guilt is a good thing. It means you have feelings about your wrong doing. That is excellent! If you didn't, you'd be the world's worse sinner or a sociopath. It wouldn't be good for you either way.

Life is tough. A nun's life is even tougher. I have a mission to get my soul into heaven and I have an even higher calling to drag your's with me. I will drag it kicking and screaming if I have to, just the way I had to drag you kicking and screaming off that kid on the playground that drove you to clock him one. I hope you'll forgive me when I don't mince words.

I know you will. Because if you don't, I'll make you feel guilty, guilty, guilty.

I'm kidding. I know you will.

I started this blog because the door to door thing...how is that working out for the Jehovah's Witnesses? I admire their pluck, though. They really don't give up. I think they would slip through the mail slot to talk with me if they could.

Perhaps part of the reason Christmas is my favorite time of year is because it's the one time I can kind of let up on everybody, since the Baby Jesus is here to take care of things, at least until the decorations come down and the snow turns black.

Light a candle for me. I'll light ten for you.