I am reminded of one of my favorite parishioners about whom I've written before. He's an outrageous storyteller who has yet to set foot in my church.
It seems he cut several fingers off in some kind of freak accident a few years back. The other day, he showed me his new prosthetic. It was a kind of glove with fingers built in that would actually give him more use of his hand.
"Does it really work?" I asked.
"I pinched a woman's bottom with it the other day," he said with a wink.
"I'd want to use my real hand for that." I said. It just kind of slipped out before my inner holy editor could intervene.
See, this is why I have this blog. Some of my most entertaining conversations never make it to the pulpit. But I just have to share it with someone.
Anyway, Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone.