September 07, 2003
Crickets. Ever since I was a little girl, crickets always signaled the end of summer. Enough fun - go put on those ugly new shoes and get thyself to Sister Mary Sparkplug's classroom for another year of fun and frolic.Actually, the most interesting nun I had growing up was named Sister Mary Alvernia (not Sister Mary Sparkplug - I made that up). Alvernia. It's kind of a weird name, so I did you all a favor and hopped on Google to find out what her name means. The saint is John of Alvernia. Here's the scoop - Part-time hermit, part-time evangelist and spiritual advisor in the area around Mount Alvernia, central and northern Italy. Had the gifts of infused knowledge, visions, ecstasies, and mind-reading. I wonder how anyone could be a part-time hermit. Would one "hermit" for six months each year, or would one "hermit" three or four days every week? And what the hell is infused knowledge? I guess that means he just sort of knew stuff -- kind of like instinct (spawning salmon that blow their wads and die on the rocks). Whatever.
Back to Sister Mary Alvernia.......
Once day, she sent all the boys out of the room so she could talk to all of us girls about that vulgar old 6th Commandment - the one that is all about sex. Anticipation was high! After all, we were sure to learn a lot from a nun who was approaching 70. A nun who entered the convent when she was 13 or 14 and knew SO MUCH about reproduction and sexuality.
She sat at the desk with her hands folded under that cloth thingie that nuns always wore (now what DID they do under that thing all the time, anyway?). She looked us straight in the eye and said, "Girls, you know it is against the 6th Commandment to linger with your washcloth." We all nodded our heads and pretended to understand what in the hell she was talking about.
I went home too confused and embarrassed to ask my mother about washcloth lingering sinfulness. I decided to take the matter into my own hands (no pun intended) and find out for myself.
I looked up "linger" in the dictionary. It said: to spend casual time with, to loiter. I looked up "loiter" next. It said: to laze about, especially in public places like bus terminals and libraries. Okay, after learning all this, I could NOT figure out why it was such a sin to take my washcloth to the library!
"Spend casual time with" seemed like a better deal, so decided to actually just do it - to loiter with my washcloth - to commit a MORTAL SIN.
I filled the bathtub really full and hopped in with my favorite washcloth. It had a picture of a monkey cleaning his ears with (drum roll) a washcloth. I got the cloth wet and carefully folded it over the water spigots in the tub. I laid back in the tub and just stared at my washcloth. Why was this so sinful? I looked at it with my knees skewed to the right - with knees skewed to the left. I lingered with that damn washcloth for almost 30 minutes! I even lingered with it splayed out all over my face, breathing in hot bathtub air through my nose - making the washcloth jump and buckle.
After I got tired of "sinning," I got out of the tub and dried off. I put the washcloth on the rack like usual, and then I stood there for a few extra minutes to add some extra icing on my "sin." Hell, if I was going to all the trouble to do this, I wanted to do it right!
I went to confession on Friday. It was so exciting to confess adultery to this sleepy-ass priest who didn't pay attention to a word I said. I got two Our Fathers and two Hail Mary's for lingering with that washcloth. I would do it again in a heartbeat!
There is a big Daddy-O cricket somewhere near the back porch and a few smaller ones somewhere in the back yard. There is quite a symphony going on out there. It's time for school again. I wonder if Sister Alvernia ever took a "real" bath. HA HA HA
