Augie, my clumsy angel, was giving me another one of his lectures.
He caught me “saying bad words” as I attempted to button my shirt – a real chore due to my severe carpal tunnel syndrome.
Augie: “I taught you better than this. My Boss created pullover shirts that have no buttons.”
Me: “You aren’t exactly a fashion statement with your stubby wings. Why don’t you shut up while I mindfully finish dressing? I still have my shoe-tying challenge ahead.”
Augie: “You poor unimaginative soul. Even dapper Saint Peter switched to loafers decades ago.”
Me, more perturbed: “Why did you stumble into my bedroom anyway?”
Augie, departing: “I wanted to be certain you had the gift I gave you 30 years ago still hanging above your bed.”
I looked up on my wall and saw my framed, faded copy of The Serenity Prayer.