Father Forgive Me...For I have Sinned

Have you ever done something so terrible, so completely despicable that you feel your only redemption is an exercism? That is how I have felt today. In fact, for the first time ever, I wish that I was Catholic.

Today, I would beat people down to get to the head of the line at the coffessional. I realize that this behavior is inappropriate, but I will ask forgiveness for all the necessary assaults on fellow Catholics immediately following the cardinal sin for which I must confess: Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

In order to completely understand the following explanation, it is best to view a previous blog entitled, "Wedding In Comer". I was so proud to have gotten the attention of a much younger man. However, life, as it tuns out, has an interesting way of snatching the pride right out of me.

Mr. B...the blue eyes and blonde hair get me every time. I do solemnly sware to seek out only dark-haired dark-eyed males from this day forward. He did send a text message last weekend. Do not let this communication surprise you; it is easily explicible. He had not yet regained his sobriety. I did not respond and I did not hear from him all week. Until....

Yesterday, I was getting a pedicure. Sitting in the wiggle chair, trying to relax. My phone rings. It's Spring. Whenever I get in trouble, she is always a part of the story, isn't she? When I answer the phone, there is no hello, no how are you...the first words are, "You are dead meat. I'm gonna kill you." I have heard her say those words to me so many times through the years, that it doesn't really have the desired affect anymore. I barely even react.

"What?"

"you were the topic of conversation at the meet-n-greet during church this morning."

I am still lost, but I am trying to hang on. Like me, Spring often speaks in jumbled, fragmented sentences and it is left to the listener to string the pieces of the puzzle together in order to find its meaning. I heard words like deacon... called me over to him...meet and greet...business partner...40 year old woman....

I completely honed in on the 40 year old woman. I don't think I heard much else after that. I couldn't believe someone thought I was 40 years old. (I hope that man is one of those folks standing in front me in line at the confessional this afternoon. I will beat him down and leave him off of my forgiveness list.)

After 100 questions, I finally put together the following story. Before reading it, consider this question. How would you feel knowing that folks who do not know you were talking about you at both a high school football game and a sunday church service?

Spring goes to the First Baptist Church. During the meet-n-greet, a deacon at her church called her over to chat. He said, "I heard about your business partner at the wedding last weekend."

"I don't have a business partner."

"I'm talking about that forty something woman with you at the wedding in Comer."

"That's Ginger. She is not my business partner; she is a friend who went with me to help out. She is 35!"

"Sounds like she had a good time."

"We all had a good time. What are you insinuating?"

"I heard from so-and-so at the ballgame friday night that she was getting busy with the quarter back from Lakeside High School, and even went behind the barn with him for a while."

Yes, friends. You did not read the previous sentence incorrectly. Take a minute....let that sink in.

"She did walk to his truck with him but they weren't gone but just a minute."

Bless Spring's heart....she is forever defending my honor and my actions. I love her.

I had Mr. B's phone number from the text that he sent last weekend. I sent a text: got an interesting phone call. It seems you lied to me about your age.

Do you know what the little book-bag toten' kid said?

"Just by a few years. What about the phone call? "

OMG....i felt like one of those sleezy, skaggy old men that dateline interviews on "To Catch A Predator". You know the ones I'm talking about. I can just hear all of ya. "how could you not know?"

Well, let me tell you. The kid is big and tall, and has a full beard. Besides, he lied. He even gave a birthday that equaled the age that he had given me. Even though I'd had a bit too much wine, I could still add! He had practiced that line before. I sware, I thought that he was in his late 20's. I had only two clues that he was younger than that, but they did not register at the time. First of all, he called me ma'am. At the time it was sexy...now it's sick. Plus, he was fascinated with job: a school teacher. Shit...little did I know that he was carrying his own bookbag less than six months ago!

That child is living proof that there is some kind of super-hormone injected into chicken fingers these days. He looked like a man....I promise. He did not act like a teenager. He did not look like a teenager. He did not kiss me like a teenager.

The surest sign that a woman is getting old....the inability to decipher a person's age within the range of at least one decade!!!

Forgive me Father for I have sinned....