I understand Saint Peter finally let you in through the gates to heaven. After all, you’ve been waiting 20 years due to a major misunderstanding. You were formally charged with lying about the achievements of your youngest son. That would be me.
When you told your friends I had won the spelling bee at Saint Cecilia Grade School, that wasn’t entirely accurate.
I told you I was in the spelling bee (every student was required to enter), and I went out in the first round on the word beauteful (I mean beautiful).
When you told your friends I was selected to study abroad during my junior year at the University of Illinois, even I was surprised by your creativity.
I actually flunked out of the University of Illinois and went to a brand new college, Hiram Scott College, located way abroad in Scottsbluff, Nebraska. They were in a desperate search for students.
When you told your friends I was the youngest employee to be made vice president within the Ramada Inn Corporation, by then I was surprised you hadn’t made me the president.
Actually, I was learning how to fix ice machines and do a night audit as part of my training at the Ramada Inn Management School.
Saint Peter had a much longer list to check out with me. I was worried for you. Then, I remembered that you never actually lied, you just “gilded the lily.” In large part, thanks to you and Dad, my life has been pretty great. A piece of my success has always been trying to live up to the wondrous pictures you painted of me to your friends.
Saint Peter is no rigid guardian. Loving mothers get a free pass.
Your youngest boy,
Saint Peter at the gate