Sunday, November 23, 2008


I shouldn't admit things to you like I do. Today a woman at church said, "You just tell it all in your blog, don't you?" And I admitted I did. And then I walked right into the chapel and did something that I shouldn't have done. And while I was doing it I knew I'd tell you all about it on my blog.

So, here's the deal. Yesterday I was on my feet several hours, helping with a funeral luncheon. When I got home and took off my shoes my toes screamed bad words. I examined them and realized my toenails needed to be cut as they had been jammed against my shoes. I need new toenail polish too--
maybe something cute like, Gilmore Girl's--but that's another subject.

Our church doesn't start until 1:00 and so I had oodles of time to cut the toenails. I even had time to polish them. Did I? No. I puttered around the house doing everything else until I realized my friend was picking me up pretty soon. I flew to the shower and then barely finished making my face less "small-children-run-away-in-horror-ugly" and making my hair less witchy when she drove up. I grabbed my church bag and threw in something I shouldn't have.

The reason she takes me to church is because Phil is serving at a BYU ward and is gone before I'm even awake on Sunday morning. He usually picks me up after church but today was going to be late and so I knew I would probably be walking home with the jammed-against-the-shoes-long-toenails. My friend would drive me home, too but it was such a lovely day that I wanted to walk.

So...when I got into the chapel I was the only one there besides the organist. I slunk into my favorite pew and scooted all the way to the wall and took out the offending tool, the one that will keep me out of Heaven. And then I used it. Here is how the dialogue will go when I die:

Saint Peter: "Well, Lynne, you were a pretty good person."

Me: "Thank you, Saint Peter, I tried."

Saint Peter: "humm. I see by the record here that on a black day in November you cut your toenails RIGHT IN THE CHAPEL!"

Me: Clearing my throat and swallowing a few times. "Well, to be honest. I was very discrete. I was the only person in the chapel. I ducked out of sight. I picked up all the toenail clippings and took them out into the hall and dumped them in the garbage can." I will probably pause in my dialogue here and then I will say "I washed my hands."

Saint Peter: "Washed your hands?"

Me: "Well, okay, I forgot to wash my hands but I thought about it later, when I was blogging, and thought it would have been a really good idea."

Saint Peter: "I'll say. You shook people's hands, didn't you?"

Me: "I forget."

Saint Peter: "Right." He says in a sarcastic way. Who knew Saint Peter could be sarcastic? "Lying about washing the hands, and lying about being the only one in the chapel, and lying about forgetting if she shook people's hands, WHICH SHE DID," he says to himself as he marks something down in a his Big Official Book.

Me: "I'm really sorry. Does deathbed repentance count?"

Saint Peter: "It's too late, your deathbed was a few minutes ago."

Me: "Well, I knew it was probably not a good idea at the time."

Saint Peter: "But you did it anyway."

Me: "Well, yes, because I didn't want to walk home with painful toes."

Saint Peter: "You could have avoided that by cutting your toenails at home LIKE A SENSIBLE PERSON. And by polishing them too. Jeez!" Maybe Saint Peter doesn't say, "Jeez."

Me: "But the Alzheimer's!"

Saint Peter: "You never had Alzheimer's." He marks something else down in his big book which I am starting to think is called, The Big Book of Bad Ideas. "Lied about having Alzheimer's," he says to himself.

Me: "What are my chances of getting into Heaven?"

Saint Peter: "Well, not only did you cut your toenails IN THE CHAPEL and lied about washing your hands and lied about having Alzheimer's but you didn't wear pantyhose to church."

Me: "It was a warm day. My last days of pantyhose freedom. For crying out loud! What are you, the fashion police?"

Saint Peter: "Tisk, tisk, tisk," he says, shaking his head. "Disrespectful to the man who is in charge of the gates of Heaven." He writes in that Dang Big Book.

And then I'm sure I will disgrace myself by talking when I should be humble and I will end up in a not-so-wonderful spot for eternity.

So, don't try this at church. Try it at home, where normal people have the good sense to do it. And wear pantyhose. Unless you're a man and then I'm sorry for talking about pantyhose and toenails and embarrassing you.

Well, I'm not really sorry.

DO YOU HEAR THAT, SAINT PETER? I told the truth. I'm not really sorry so get out your BIG FAT ERASER and erase "Lied about being sorry," in your BIG FAT BOOK OF BAD BEHAVIOR.

Good grief. This pretty much clinches it, doesn't it? I'm not getting into Heaven.


Pam's Place said...

Dear Lynne, Maybe St. Pete will let us take a vote, and then you'll be in for sure. Heaven wouldn't be heaven without you!
(We all know St. Pete doesn't have a thing to say about it. And I've been told the Lord has a great sense of humor. I think you're gonna be just fine. But you better not press your luck)

Bonnie Sorenson said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Bonnie Sorenson said...

Lynne, this is by far the funniest thing I have ever read. I needed to laugh today and I started laughing out loud at . . . . .

Me: "I'm really sorry. Does deathbed repentance count?"
Saint Peter: "It's too late, your deathbed was a few minutes ago."

. . . . . . and then it just got better and better.

Check out my Christmasy blog and be sure to play God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen on the Jukebox so you have the proper snowflake music to view the snowglobe.

I just love you.
(P.S. My right hand is feeling better, but it is still in a splint. I made so many typos, I deleted my first message to you.)

Lynne's Somewhat Invented Life said...

Pam, I'm afraid you will be with me in Not-Heaven. Calling the man in charge of the gate "St. Pete!?" Well, I've always liked your company and we'll have a nice long eternal visit. I wonder if there will be J-Dawgs there?

Michael Skorulski said...

I enjoyed your story and am happy to report my fruit flies are gone thanks to your reciepe.

Laura ~Peach~ said...

OHHHHHH I SO LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE your stories... And wonderful way of writing them...HUGSSSSSSSSSS and I think you will make heaven just fine because as it was noted God has a wonderful sense of humor!

Tierney said...

oh, this was a very excellent and satisfactory story indeed! I admit that I was wondering for a lot of your story how you got past the pantyhose. I do not think Heavenly Father will really mind much. After all, with all he has accomplished I am sure he multi-tasks too. If you have left the toenails on the floor of the chapel that would have very telestial, though.

Much love,


hillary said...

Did you tell Dad? I'm sure you'll be fine as long as you don't tell Dad. You know how he feels about people even filing their nails in the Chapel. Don't tell Dad. If you do you don't have a prayer. Ha a prayer! Funny funny. I'm glad I am just like you. Except (wahhh) I'm not as witty.

hillary said...

Hey while I was waxing the brow you could have been taking care of those toes. And then poor St Peter would have nothing to tell his friends.

I will paint them on Thursday for you ok. Want snowflakes? And a sparkle? I could do it. I'm sure I could.

WV was Vateress..a vampire waitress.
WV: "wateress" a vampire waitress.

Lee W. said...

you have the FUNNIEST stories. If your tale is all it takes to be banished- I am in BIG trouble!!

Peter said...

Maybe you will get into the suburbs of heaven. That is where the J-Dawgs are.

Shawn said...

Love this story---its soooooo awesome! I think that you would get accolades for managing your time---doing something important while contemplating the Lords work.

You go, girl.

By the by, I tagged you---check out my blog...

tearese said...

I think its okay, if you don't do it EVERY sunday. There was a lady who would knit these giant afghans, or do great big cross stitch things in Sacrament. If it was just once, it wouldn't bother me, but this was EVERY sunday. and she sat right in the middle near the front, and it was very distracting to everyone.

But my mom nursed babies in the chapel during the meeting (with a blanket cover of course) so maybe that was just as bad. But she couldn't leave the rest of us alone!!!

At least if I draw in church, it doesn't distract too many people.
Never mind.