Sneaky and unpredictable were two words no one would have ever applied to my mother.
The security guard at St Francis Hospital challenged dad to prove he was a minister.
Dad bought Spumoni ice cream which, as a child, I decided was torture.
Mother scarred me for life when she had me wear second-hand girls clothing and tried to convince me they were boys clothes.
We launched a tire from the roof of the parsonage during a church ladies meeting. Someone thought a dead body had fallen.
Exploring the church crawlspace on a secret mission. We thought we’d been successful until unforeseen circumstances intervened.
I was ashamed by my first name until I found out the wonderful story of my namesake. Now just call me Lou.
I will confess to painting on the wall of the church, but will claim that I have a defense. My little sister talked me into it.
Preachers kids have the reputation of being ornery or trouble makers. They are on view for the world to see and expected to be angels. Sometimes they aren’t.