A younger, tearful nun nervously went to the Mom Superior’s workplace to admit that she was pregnant.
Shocked and completely livid, the Mom Superior demanded, “How on earth did this occur?!”
“It was Father O’Malley from the parish up the highway,” the younger nun sobbed. “He confirmed me a hidden a part of himself and advised me it was ‘Saint Peter.’ Then he advised me my modesty represented the ‘Gates of Heaven,’ and that Saint Peter wanted to enter the gates to bless me into changing into an ideal Christian. I used to be naive, Reverend Mom… and I believed him.”
The Mom Superior’s face turned from pale white to a shiny, raging crimson. She slammed her fist onto the heavy oak desk and shrieked:
“That low-down, rotten bastard! He advised me it was the Archangel Gabriel’s horn—and I’ve been blowing it each Sunday for twenty years!”
