Getting Old Is No Fun

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For as long as I remember I have been bad. Nearly expelled from a Catholic elementary school I had punched a nun in the stomach.  She hit me first.  Making up sins to tell the priest in confession–my penance was so long I pissed while kneeling at the altar.  For doing this I may not go straight to heaven.  At school lunch I would take other kids’ food. This lead to weight gain since I mostly took cookies. I was obsessed with girls bodies, always picturing in my mind what they looked like naked. This was not a learned behavior. It came to me naturally.

As I have gotten much older, I still have bad thoughts–I just don’t act on them. Getting old is no fun.

Sins of a Fourth Grader

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Every third Friday of the month, it was required that all fourth graders at St Johns Elementary go to confession. We had to go into a dark booth where a priest would slide back a small door, hear our sins, and give us our penance.
You had to have your sins ready before you went in.

One visit I didn’t have them ready, so I made some up.
“Father, I was looking up Katy Snoots’ dress, I jabbed a pencil in the teacher’s rear end, and I waited for a quiet moment in class and farted.”

The penance was quite tough: thirty Hail Marys, thirty Our Fathers.
To leave the church without saying these prayers was a mortal sin. Getting close to the last prayer I had a tremendous urge to pee. I was the only one kneeling at the altar and not wanting to wet my pants, I pulled down my zipper and let it go. A puddle formed at the feet of a statue of Mother Mary. This sin was never confessed.
One day I may enter the fiery gates of hell.

Bad Eggs

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“Mom, my stomach hurts.”
I told Mom this because I was getting ready to throw up.
My brother was already in the bathroom retching, and, when I passed my sister in the hallway,
she farted, so I knew something was very wrong. She would not normally do that.
We figured it was the egg salad we had for dinner.
We got through that night, although I did throw up on Mom’s favorite painting.
I never told anyone.

Confessions of a Fourth Grader

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It was required by all fourth graders at St Johns Elementary that we go to confession every third Friday of the month. We had to go into a dark booth where a priest would slide back a small door, hear our sins, and give us our penance.
You had to have your sins ready before you went in.

One visit I didn’t have them ready so I made some up.
“Father, I was looking up Katy Snoots’ dress, I jabbed a pencil in the teachers rear end, and I waited for a quiet moment in class and farted.”

The penance was quite tough: thirty hail Marys, thirty Our Fathers.
To leave the church without saying these prayers was a mortal sin. Getting close to the last prayer I had a tremendous urge to pee. I was the only one kneeling at the altar and not wanting to wet my pants I pulled down my zipper and let it go. A puddle formed at the feet of a statue of Mother Mary. This sin was never told.
One day I may enter the fiery gates of hell.