Let's start with this: If today's title gave you pause - stop reading now. Just stop. It will save us all a lot of angst later.
A week and half ago I was in El Salvador on a mission trip. I got back to my car at the airport, switched bags, and drove right to our diocesan priest convocation. There I saw most of my priest buddies and we can sometimes get silly. Hence today's post. It may well be that I am sharing too much but I can't turn down a dare from these guys.
Now, of course when you get home from being away, what went WRONG is always FAR more interesting to hear about than what was wonderful, restful, and meaningful. This is unfortunate but a part of human nature. Especially a bunch of guys human nature.
Today's story is a result of that. More serious stuff will come later.
So while in El Salvador many of the team came down with the El Salvadorian diet. It is not pretty. It can sneak up on you accidentally by drinking something with ice in it, or fruit that was cut with a dirty knife, or, as in my case, accidentally running your toothbrush under the tap.
Compared to everybody else mine was quite mild. As soon as I realized what may be upon me, I took some medicine. It seemed to take care of it right away. But only seemed. It was to be that there would be one more offensive.
We went on a long trip out to the Jesuit University to visit the very sacred spot where the Jesuits were martyred during their civil war. It was then that my body started warning me that it was about to betray me one last time.
I didn't want anyone to make a fuss so I kept pretty quiet about it. Things were Okay but time was running out. When there was a break in our tour I asked our very helpful docent where the bano was. She led me half way across to campus to the nearest one. Time was quickly running out. Not to worry though because there we were at the facilities and it was pretty fortunate too because much longer and this would have been a very different story.
But then one of the worst things came to light.
There was not a lick of paper ANYWHERE. It was too late to go back and ask one of the ladies who all seemed to have magic purses if they had anything I might borrow. I had hit the end of the grace period.
Thanks to Fr. P for the song
Apologize for those who were offended. It won't happen again. I promise I think.