I will never not fear Sister Gaetana

I went out for about ten minutes. When I returned Carm acted as though I’d been gone for hours. I hugged him and told him that I’d always return for as long as god allowed me to and then added that was assuming she (god) really gave a crap whether I got back or not. But I didn’t say crap. I said shit. Only when I started writing this, I realized that the Catholic schoolgirl in me was still uncomfortable saying shit for fear that Sister Gaetana would see what I’d written and be very angry. I realize she died eons ago but that doesn’t matter. I still fear her wrath.

Anyone who doesn’t think that the grade school years are extremely important formative years that you can never quite shake, pay attention. They follow you into your sixties.