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Don’t Make Me Say It

The search begins…

It’s not there. I swore it was in the desk drawer.

Ok… Let me think a minute… I can see it in my head. I see it there… and there… and there.

Not there. Where is it?

Ok… I’ll go look upstairs in my room. I can see it in my head. I see it there… and there… and there.

Not there either. Where is it?

Ugggh. I really don’t even want to go to the basement. I really should check there but I’m not feeling it. It has to be in the basement because it isn’t anywhere else.

I go to the dirty basement and walk over to the shelves. I’m not even going to look in the green box because I was in that box just two days ago. I KNOW it’s not in the photo boxes because there just isn’t any room. I check the basket, which is the only place I feel it might be.

Not there either. Where is it?

I walk along the shelves.

I’m not feeling this.

I stand in the middle of this chaos that is called the basement and scan the entire place.

I’m not feeling this.

I go to the other side of the basement where Hophead keeps most of his tools. I check the white shelves because it can’t be anywhere else.

Not there either. Where is it?

It’s not even that important. I’m just stuck on finding it especially now that I’ve stopped everything else I was doing.

Please don’t make me say your name.

You always come through for Hophead. Go figure? He has never had religion. I was the Catholic then the “Cafeteria Catholic” and now the “Catholic in Remission”.

Yeah, Remission! I am free from Catholicism… Sort of. I can never be free of Catholicism because it’s in my core. This is how I was raised, not-to-mention Aunt Dot.

Aunt Dot always had a Patron Saint for any situation and sometimes there was even a prayer to go along with it;

“St. Anne, St. Anne send me a man as fast as you can.”

Yeup, I’ve used that one and shared it with many of my single girlfriends. Last time I used it I added a “For realz this time” and then I met Hophead.

Since I was a little girl the one prayer I ALWAYS used was to St. Anthony, patron saint of lost and stolen articles;

“Dear St. Anthony, Something is lost and can’t be found. Please help me find it.”

Not sure if that is the official prayer. I tended to start everything off like I was writing a letter; “Dear God…”. Maybe I would have had faster results if I added;  “… Yours Truly, Reddudette”.

A few years back Hophead was desperately searching for something and I told him about St. Anthony and THE (my) prayer. It worked like a charm! Kinda freaked Hophead out a bit due to how well it worked.

For a while there, St. Anthony wasn’t always so helpful for me. Maybe he was too busy with Hophead? Maybe he was not happy with my “Catholicism in Remission”?

So I stopped praying to him…Until… this morning.

Please don’t make me say your name.

Ok, ok…

“St. Anthony please help me find this stoopid thing”

I went back to the desk, which is the first place I looked. Opened the drawer further and BAM! There it was.

As soon as I said his name… It worked!

I just can’t get away from it… The Catholic upbringing. Then again I don’t want to.

 

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