And worst of all, no one here thinks I’m funny

I’m in a class called Storytelling, which is, in fact, a class that teaches students to be better storytellers.  Although I took it with the desire for a more light-hearted summer course I admit that I’m really enjoying it.

This week we’ve been working on family and personal stories.  Although I feel that I’ve got some pretty good zingers, I realized that making them universal for all audiences will be a bit of a struggle.  So many of my stories are funnier when you know something about what it means to be Catholic–and for any person that needs me to define “cassock” or “adoration” or “offer-it-up” I feel that the meaning would be lost in translation.

Welp.  There goes all my good ones.

But I’m going to tell you anyway.  We were doing exercises in class and had to draw a number of squares.  We would label each square with a trait or characteristic (optimist, black sheep, jack-of-all-trades, ect) and we were then asked to fill in each box with someone in our family that fit the description.  “Remember,” the teacher reminded us, “‘family’ can be defined however you wish.  So, as traits like “the rock,” “persistent,” “eccentric” came up, I started filling in the names of saints while laughing to myself.

And really, even if I would try to explain it I don’ t think anyone else would have found it humorous.

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1 Comment

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One response to “And worst of all, no one here thinks I’m funny

  1. Good ol’ CCD.

    I got sick of ours to the point where we had to come up with a church I named it St. Ashley and was sent to the “principal”.

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