Farting In Front of the Priest

Filed Under Secrets | 1 Comment

I know this is 25 secrets and I’m sure I have that many, if not more, but the FIRST secret should be really important, shouldn’t it? I mean who’s gonna be interested in your other secrets if the first secret is boring?

Nobody would call me boring I don’t think. There are lots of other words they’d call me like old, round, short, sparkly, rich, interesting, informed.. ok they wouldn’t call me rich. I was just trying to see how that would look in print. It looks pretty good to me. Maybe I should work on getting rich but I probably won’t.

Ok, drum roll please. My first secret is that I farted in front of the parish priest when I was 11. We all know that women don’t fart (at least in front of another person). At 11, girls don’t admit that they fart at all - ever!

The story goes like this. Every year in our parish, one of the local priests visited every household that belonged to the local Catholic church. They did this for a few reasons but my dad said it was only to get “the pledge”. They never told you when they were coming, they just turned up on your doorstep.

Well, the day in question my parents were arguing back and forth. I don’t think it was serious but it went on much of the day one summer Saturday. My mother was outside watering her favorite yellow roses and my father came out and she turned the hose on him! He was so not happy. He didn’t say anything but turned and went back into the house.

A few minutes later, and just as the priest, Father LaVoie, was pulling into the driveway, my father opened the upstairs window and dumped a bucket of water on my mother’s head. You can only imagine what everyone did. All three kids were screaming with laughter. My father was chuckling and my mother (who had NOT seen the priest drive up) started cursing my father in French.

My mother turned around (still yelling) and saw the priest. She was in a white shirt, all wet and nearly died of embarrassment. My mother would not watch a wet t-shirt contest much less appear in one anywhere. It wasn’t a t-shirt but a white shirt is a white shirt and you could see her nipples through that shirt!

Father LaVoie did the only thing he could.. he laughed. He laughed a big belly laugh and suggested that my mother change while he had a chat to the kids and dad.

Now THIS is where the BAD THING happened.

We all trudged into the house and were standing in the entry hallway as my father came down the stairs to greet the priest. Father LaVoie was a lovely guy, even if he was a priest. I have never understood why priests have to be celibate but that’s another story.

He asked my sister how she was doing on her violin and asked my brother how he was doing in baseball and he said, “Secrettia, how are your grades this year? I know last year you were at the top of your class.” At 11 I was easily embarrassed and I hesitated and during this huge pocket of quiet before I answered I let the biggest fart any kid could possibly create. Instead of politely saying, “excuse me.” I said, “that WASN’T me!”

My brother and sister roared with laughter and my father just smiled with a look that told me nobody was buying that excuse.

Now normally this wouldn’t be a life defining moment for anyone, but for me it was. For the rest of my life and I’m not young by any means, I have been confronted every time I see my brother or my sister about farting in front of the priest. Nobody talks about my mother with her hair all wet and flashing her tits to the priest, oh no.. it’s always gotta be about me farting in front of the priest.

It wasn’t me and I still don’t fart.

You Will Not Marry That Man

Filed Under Secrets | Leave a Comment

Back in the olden days there was a conflict called the Vietnam War. In 1966 the love of my life had been drafted. We were both very young and very much in love. My parents wanted me to stop seeing him because “all you’ll get is pain,” because he was going away. They didn’t get it. I was in love with this man who had very recently been a boy. I was preparing for college in the fall and he was going away to war. It didn’t seem right and it didn’t seem fair.

He asked me to marry him and wait for him. I said I’d do anything he wanted. I would have tossed myself on a spiked fence for him. He was kind to me and he was respectful - something I had never had at home.

I told my parents we were getting married.

“You are NOT getting married,” I was told.

“I AM getting married,” I said.

In order not to bore you, I won’t repeat all the times they said and I said the same thing over and over.

“Go to your room,” I was told.

I went to my room and didn’t come out for 4 days. I was really hungry. All I’d had for 4 days was water out of the bathroom tap.

I went to the kitchen and said, “I’m hungry AND I’m going to get married.”

They just looked away. I could barely hear, “we will not permit you to marry THAT man. We have contacted the priest and he will not marry you in the church.”

I said, “fine, I’ll get married in his church.”

The look of total shock came across my mother’s face as she realized it was not only possible but quite probable that I was serious. I left that afternoon and organized a wedding at the church. We didn’t have any money but we’d be married and that’s all we wanted.

Eventually my mother couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter being married away from “our” church and the small family wedding was planned in great haste because my love was due to leave for the Army soon.

Now we’re getting to SECRET #2.

The wedding went as planned - the center aisle in the church seemed 2 miles long and nearly every step my dad said, “it’s not too late, chicken, we can turn around.” I kept walking. We said our “I dos” and went to the reception. Someone started feeding me rum and coke and it was really good. I’d never been a drinker before.

I kept drinking.

…and drinking

Til finally my mother said we should leave on our honeymoon. We weren’t going far, only to Massachusetts, but it seemed like a long way to us. Our first night though was at a motel in town.

We got there, he carried me over the threshhold and we were inside. I was VERY drunk. I was waste of space to be honest. I didn’t care. I was married. I was a Mrs. and nobody could tell me what to do ever again.

I didn’t feel so well. My brand new husband wanted to try out the bride.

I got my white silky gown and toothbrush and went to the bathroom. I don’t know what happened in that bathroom but once I locked the door I realized I was alone in the world. Yes I had a husband but he was leaving me. What had I done? To him? To me? I’m sure it was the booze taking hold but I decided if I never went out of the room we wouldn’t REALLY be married.

He knocked on the door, “Are you nearly ready” he asked?

“No. Go away. I don’t like you any more,” I said.

“Don’t be silly, come on out,” he begged.

“No, I’m not coming out. I’ve made a big mistake,” I cried.

“It’s not a mistake, I love you and we just got married.”

“No, your mother wears Army boots and you tricked me,” I promise this is what I said.

“Your drunk, it’s ok, come on out.”

This went for 2 hours. I was still very drunk and was sitting on the bathroom floor crying. He finally came to the door and said that it was fine if I didn’t want to be married to him and it was fine if I wanted an anullment, but would I PLEASE COME OUT.

Slowly I opened the door and crawled out on my hands and knees (I couldn’t stand up). The wonderful man I married got on his hands and knees and kissed my forehead and said, “You are the silliest woman I’ve ever known.” I laughed and we talked and I decided that maybe being married to him was a good thing after all.

We had a lovely 4 day honeymoon and then he left for boot camp. I saw him for a weekend before he shipped out to Vietnam. That was the last time I saw him.

Coming out of the bathroom was a good thing.

My Boyfriend and My Best Friend

Filed Under Secrets | Leave a Comment

My life is full of little secrets and I don’t mind sharing them as long as nobody knows it’s really me. The Internet and its blogs have really allowed people like me to share our secrets and silliness as long as we remain anonymous.

Like the night my best friend in the whole world went out with MY boyfriend and slept with him. I was gutted to say the least. I must have walked 1000 miles that night and worn a hole in my living room carpet. I couldn’t decide which was more important, my best friend, my boyfriend or my self respect. I still don’t know if I made the right decision.

I really liked them both and I have to admit that I did sense an attraction between them. I chose to pretend I didn’t know and see how it went and deal with it later. I confess to having thoughts of a big knife and a lot of blood, but the idea passed quickly.

Within a week it was apparent that whatever attraction they had between them was gone and to be honest, so was my attraction to my boyfriend. My best friend and I had shared so many good times and stressful times that I chose to keep her and I dumped him.

Steve, if you’re reading this, I probably should have told you I knew.