Blogging Around: The "I Just Liked This Story" Edition

The Papal Nuncio and Sparkly Kitty Shoes

He help up his hand and silenced the mother, and leaning forward on the crozier, he asked the girl, “Those are special shoes. Do you like them?”

She pulled the thumb from her mouth and chirped “They’re spark-a-we.”

“Ah. Sparkly is important in shoes.” He told her. “Are they your favorite?”

“She never takes them off.” Her mother confessed.

“They’re my booful shoes!” the girl shrieked to the amusement of a growing crowd.

The Papal Nucio placed a hand on the girl’s head, looked at her mother and then around at the rest of us and said, “This child is teaching us two important lessons today. The first is – do not be conformed to the rules of this world - the rules of this world are meaningless. And the second is – always offer to God your best. Even when the best you have is sparkling cat shoes.”

There's a third lesson but you can read that for yourself at Shoved to Them.

From the Corner of the Eye

“Evil-ution,” said Danny Mulloney to his beer, “is just plain wrong.”

The O Neil and I exchanged looks. There is a certain way that people have of inflecting their voices, a way of lilting this vowel or that, or stretching the odd syllable or two, that lets you know that they’ve said more than they’ve spoken. ...

This is a wonderful short story in the best tradition of one of my favorite genres, tall tales told in taverns. When the tale is told by Michael Flynn then you know you're in for a good 'un. This one did something I've never seen before and it really shocked me. (Just from the story point of view; the story is perfectly safe for general consumption.)

Read From the Corner of the Eye and find out more about the story at Michael Flynn's blog.

This is How It Is

Rage.

Rage that I should have just been selfish and eaten the leftovers myself. Rage that I was really being just about as selfish now. And rage that we ever let those damn freezer pops into the house that people have been harassing me about all morning.

Go, son, into the outer darkness! No, you may not have your popsicle now. You may have it when your father has recovered from the urge to strike you and when you have waited out the penance for your own hastiness and waste.

Darwin's been minding the kids, over at DarwinCatholic, and the results are blindingly honest, familiar to any parent, and sidesplittingly funny. Go and enjoy.