To be good soldiers of Christ and good Catholics Sister Atilla (the nun) demanded that, in fourth grade, we write about our souls. She wanted us to describe our souls and what it meant to our love of Jesus and the ole man.
Well, I always envisioned a soul to have a form that my older cousin Rip told me about(he was in the fifth grade).
I deduced that A soul was this thing, it was like a little body that was all covered with mazola all over and was without any clothes on so it could run up and rub against other souls and this would be fun when older souls got around each other. He said that boy an girl souls would rub against each other and pretty much theyd keep each other occupied. Iwrote up something to that effect and my mom was quite shocked at how Id gone and become this evil minded kid whos
gonna go to hell.
She told me that a soul was more like a box that God kept stacked in a huge room until we die and then the little guy inside the box, who would be me-well,my ghost . He would come out nd live a life forever worshipping God and Jesus and Mary.
I liked the whole thing that rip told me much better so I made a sort of hybrid version of the two concepts and even kept the mazola in there.
Sister Atillah smacked my knuckles and sent me to Father Stanush for penance.
Rather than making a big deal about it, Father Stan let me off with a coupla Hail Marys and a "perfect act of contrition' and to make a firm commitment to God denouncing the practice of "Self abuse" (I had no idea at the time what self-abuse even was, I thought I was promising not to ever slice up my arms or beat myself with a stick)
Sister Atillah, shes The bitch.