from Splendiferous

As for the teen years, the best years of your life,

As for the teen years, the best years of your life, it’s more like some guy you might have mouthed off to because he said something about wanting to entertain your mother, has you on your stomach in the middle of the cafeteria, with his foot on your neck until you scream, “My mother entertains strangers!” Then last week they suspend you for it.
My mother’s solution to this was prayer.
“You should be praying to Saint Kentigern!”
The patron saint of the bullied. According to my mother, there’s a saint to protect you from every ill, ranging from field mice (Gertrude of Nivelles) to sensitive knees. (Thomas of Green). Call me crazy, but I still send up the odd one to the saint of my choice in time of trouble. And there’s been a lot of trouble.
Now we argue in code:
“Claude, I think Telly should seriously consider praying to St Vitus.”
(Protection against over sleeping.)
“I will, Mum, but only if you will seriously pray to Mary Magdalene.”
(Sexual temptation.)
“Penny, what’s the matter? Penny? What did you say to your mother?”
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