tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10178279.post116472875754380766..comments2024-03-28T05:13:13.921-04:00Comments on Books, Inq. — The Epilogue: A rarity of sorts ...Frank Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18410473158808750903noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10178279.post-1165072044941399312006-12-02T10:07:00.000-05:002006-12-02T10:07:00.000-05:00This show looks funny. P'raps I'll take the kids t...This show looks funny. P'raps I'll take the kids to show them what my Catholic childhood was like. During my brief sojourn among the nuns, I *did* get my knuckles rapped (well, my palms, with a ruler). Why? Because, strangely enough, I was an intensely shy child who could barely speak to anyone outside my family. When I was asked the catechism, "Who made the world, who made you?" I was unable to say anything, too terrified, and I got my hands whipped. Silence, the devil's workshop! It was a horrific revelation, happily belied by a couple of very kind, very dear nuns I also met there.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com