I was asked recently, “What story had the biggest impact on me when I was a child.”
My response was:
My older brothers made me read a story when I was in second or third grade, about how when Nuns become Nuns, they had to have their boobs chopped off.
This horrified me. All my teachers were Nuns. The more I thought about this, the more it started to make sense. None of the Nuns I ever saw looked like they had boobs. It also explained why they had such short tempers and smacked little boys around all the time.
If someone chopped my boobs off, I’d be an angry little Penguin too; and I’d smack the hell out of little boys…just because.
I spent the next two days at school staring at their habits, you know, where their boobs should be. My brothers were right, none of them had any boobs.
“What is it Michael?”
“Did it hurt?”
“Did what hurt?”
“You know, Sister, when you started being a Nun…chop, chop…didn’t it hurt?
“What are you talking about Michael?”
“You know, when you became a Nun and they chopped your boobs off…
Think before you speak.
Never underestimate how fast a 70-year-old Nun can move.
Don’t believe everything you read.
Keep your friends close and keep your older brothers closer.