Oh, how he disliked Thursday afternoons. From three to five P. M. there was a never ending procession of the local high school boys and girls confessi...g their petty sins to the priest. I lied to my parents. I swore at my sister. I had impure thoughts, Yada ... yada ... yada. Once in a while some teen would titillate him with a confession but too often it was like the Smith boy had proclaimed. I have sinned father. I touched myself between my legs every day this week."Having heard this from many. But there is one little wrinkle in all of this,” she said.“Yes, how Zoe sees things when we tell her she is off the hook as to having to stay with them. We have to be sure to assure her that she is not in some way at fault. We do not want that to be the case,” he said.“And, just to be clear, he does want his end of the month weekend to remain in place,” she said. He was nodding.“Yes, good,” he said. “Thanksgiving’s a week from Thursday. Whaddya think?” he said.“We can ask. Maybe invite his. More

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