Monday, 7 May 2012

Our Nanny

When Anna (that's Mrs T, to you)  went back to work after Bernie was born, we had a nanny.  Ant and Bernie loved her.  She treated them like princesses, and gave them everything they wanted.  Lots of pop, lots of sweets, lots of pudding, cake and biscuits.  She allowed them to do just what they wanted and never told them off.  Eventually we had to sack her, and Mrs T quit her job to raise the children properly.  Ant and Bernie, of course, were devastated; they loved their nanny and the way she treated them...

Which is why I pay no heed when some priest (disciplined by his bishop for heresy, heterodox practice, ‘protecting’ his flock from the Church’s moral teaching etc) is able to get a huge number of parishioners to say what a great priest he was.  He may have been feeding them sweets and pop, and they may have loved it.  But that is not being a good father to his flock.

(I was exaggerating a bit about our nanny, but you get the point...)

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