My Father’s Daughter, The Pope
February 28th is my father’s birthday. It’s also the day the Pope will step down. Gift-wise, this does not work to my advantage. A blender, weed-whacker or soy candle will no longer suffice. Because deep down I know that if I really want to make my father happy, I’ll step forward to fill the Pope’s shoes.
To be clear, this isn’t a matter of ego – providing my father the opportunity to say, “I hear your son made it into Harvard, Phil,” then puff out his chest and crow, ”My daughter’s Pope!” Rather, I believe it would be the fruition of a dream that’s danced in his subconscious since the day he decided to procreate.
Don’t get my wrong; my father isn’t dogmatic or preachy. But if his foot was run through a chipper, he’d still sweat being late to mass. Growing up, this applied to my sister and me as well. Plus, wherever we went on vacation, there just happened to be a church (if not Catholic, something close) right around the corner from where we were staying. Plus, I was made to attend CCD until I was 17, by which time 98% of my peers had been liberated for upwards of 3 years. And most illustrative, I am a proud product of the rhythm method of birth control. (“Come on,” my mother urged. “Cheating once won’t matter.”)
So yes. If I was Pope, my father would be delirious.
I assume the job comes with perks. Superior medical insurance covering both optical and dental. Minions poised to make a Starbucks run anytime you wish. The chance to go to work naked under a robe. An inviolate, collective delusion that you’re patient, tolerant and composed.
It sounds lovely, but I’m not sure I can go through with it.
Please don’t judge me for this. Popedom is just so. . .involved. I’d have to figure out what the fuck Twitter is improve my Twitter skills – a task daunting in and of itself. More, I’d have to familiarize myself with the Bible, ditch my beloved cat-eye glasses, and be nice to children.
My personality simply isn’t conducive.
Compounding all of that is my host of unanswered questions. Can you buy tampons in Vatican City? As Pope, can you say fuck? If not and you slip, are you whacked with a ruler and whisked off to confession? Can you wear nail polish, go shoe shopping or read “The Joy of Sex?” And, most importantly, can you blog?
This, my friends, is the pivotal question. Even if I was allowed, I’m not sure how “The Neurosis Files” would be received. Posts like, “The Mystery Of The Blue Ass,” “I Wouldn’t Kick Obama Out Of Bed,” and “My Cat’s Pussy” spring to mind. I suspect they’re more popular in New Jersey than they would be in Rome.
In my worst nightmares, my posts would assume a discernibly Papal tone.
That I could not bear.
Could you?
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You are too funny. I think Pope June has a nice ring to it. hah! You will make your father proud. And Happy Birthday!
I think priests are too nice to children as it is. A bitchy Pope would be a breath of fresh air. You’ve got my vote. Damn! I don’t think Jews can vote for a Pope.
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Lauren, if I get elected, I’ll create a special position just for you. As a Jew, you could act as a liason to the Jewish community, especially those with linking and WordPress difficulties. It’ll be fun!
Never mind the swearing and tampons, lass. Your last name is Irish … that would never do, to be sure.
Good point, Robert. It comes as quie a relief.
No.
So Ben, I guess I don’t get your vote. . .?
i don’t know. i might like some live from the vatican posts. you could make a fortune selling tampons with your little papal face on them. what is the pay? do you need an assistant from the dark side?? you funny girl!
Bev, papal tampons with my face! How did I not think of that? We could probably make a mint!
I’m so glad you chuckled.
…and BTW, wonderful, funny column. Wish it was longer.
Thanks, Ben! It was fun to write. If I expanded it to book length, maybe they’d make a movie out of it.
Very funny post, but I can’t believe you are going to disappoint your father on his big day. Maybe you could appease him by taking over Mother Theresa’s position. I wager you might have to buy the right shoes for the role…(think clunky like clogs or Birkenstocks.)
June, truly love the humor in this post. You had me laughing out loud!
Well, Annie, if I had to take up as Mother Theresa, at least I’d be on the other side of menopause. Something to ponder.
So glad you laughed, Annie.
Hehe. My favorite: “I am a proud product of the rhythm method of birth control.”
I grew up in a semi-religious family, and attended catholic school for almost all of my education (including college). I feel your pain, sister.
You’re a good daughter. It’s sweet you would even think “Hey, dad would love if I was pope!” I hope you tell him your intentions.
Also, you might be the best pope ever… Pope lovers, please don’t throw flaming arrows at me for not saying John Paul II. Oh, and I have had the interesting honor of visiting the Vatican before… you CANNOT buy tampons there. Someone I was there with actually needed one, and it took us a few tries to find one. So funny you wondered that.
Love it
throw your name in the running. I’d make a return trip there just to see you do your thing on that balcony.
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Jean, you’re the best. Thanks for such a great comment. You made my night.
A belated happy birthday to your dad! I hope he wasn’t too disappointed with whatever it was you gave him that wasn’t you being named Pope.
This was really funny, June and has made me consider raising the bar for my dad’s future gifts. This year, I provided my dad the opportunity to tell his friends “She’s not knocked up. Again.”
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Nicky, “not knocked up again” has me cracking up. Is that because you haven’t been getting lucky much these days? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. Just wondering.
I wonder what size shoe he wears. Word has it they’re not letting him keep the red Pradas.
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Jayne, I had the exact same thought. Can’t you just picture it? What a classic image.