It was a little country church.
As a boy, I was a server at Mass. The sacristy, where the other server and the priest and I put on our vestments before Mass, was very small. Say what you want about Father Dick, but that man was regular.
Every Sunday, just before noon Mass, he’d go in the bathroom just off the sacristy. The noise he made in there! All the servers made cracks about his gas being more interesting than his sermons. But here’s the thing. Like I said, it was a small sacristy, and we heard everything. What we didn’t hear after Father Dick took a dump was the sound of the sink running or the toilet-paper dispenser being used. He didn’t wash his hands afterward! Then he went out and served communions to all the parishioners.
My mother used to make me go to confession all the time, because I quit receiving communion whenever Father Dick said Mass. Just the thought of it grossed me out.
To this day, I can’t stand the thought of receiving communion; it sets off my gag reflex, like I’d be infected or something. I wonder how many people he made sick.
(Painting from oldhippleart.freeservers.com)