My First Confession

Forgive me, Reader, for I have sinned. This is my first blogged confession.

My first week back to work was stressful for me, and I wasted away my off-hours in trivial pusuits such as beach volleyball. My sin is worse than just a lack of industrious endeavors, (or "sloth,") however. Please bear with me.

Of these games, (twice a week, weather permitting,) I have bragged to my wife in regards to their health benefits and exercise and the like. What I kept from her, (a lie of omission, you might say, for sin #2, if keeping score,) is that between games, I would recoup and regroup in the fashion of my teammates; with beer and cigarettes. Yes, my trusted confidantes, I smoked.

Now, frankly, this would be no big deal had I not quit smoking ten, (or so,) years ago, as I began my wedded life with the missus. A relapse would have surely be seen as a disappointment to her, hence my lie.

To make matters worse, I found myself in Staples one evening after a game, getting some supplies before heading home. While there, I noticed the smell of cigarettes on my hands. In order to hide this smell from my wife, (or compound the lie. We'll make that sin #3!) I decided to clean my hands. As I walked the aisles, I saw a bottle of Purell that had been opened and I chose to swipe a little for my deceptive puposes, ("theft;" sin #4.)

I took a squirt or two, (okay, three,) and began to vigorously rub the tell-tale odor from my hands. Almost immediately, I noticed how viscous the Purell was. Thick and very sticky, too. I looked down and saw the luxurious dry lather I was building and then noticed that I had not stolen a shot or three from a dispenser of Purell, but from a bottle of clear SoftSoap.

I was all soaped up and without any water and in the middle of Staples.

Fortunately, being a goofball is not a sin, so THAT doesn't count toward my running tally. I wiped my hands off on my lower pant leg, made my way through the registers, and went home. I was a little proud of the smoke-masking scent that I had inadvertently covered my hands with, however, ("pride;" Sin #5. Making a grand total of five sins that I am repenting today.)

For my penance, Dear Reader, I shall promise to not have another cigarette, at least until the next volleyball game, and I will have nothing more alcoholic to drink for the rest of my evening.

Thank you for listening. I feel purged, and pure once again.