Yesterday Helen and I went to Carl Schurz Park in the mid-afternoon, to toss around the football.
Two nuns on skates--in full habit--were cruising through the park. It was hilarious, but in some strange way touching as well. I realized that nuns need to have fun too.
As we walked to our spot in the park, we passed a Dad and two kids. Dad exclaimed, "Those are nuns on skates!" The kids didn't seem so surprised, which made the whole moment even funnier.
As we were tossing the ball around (really, me tossing and Helen receiving, with obnoxious coffee breaks on my part), we noticed the nuns skating away from the park back into the neighborhood. A woman at the opposite corner from them paid no attention at all, either out of politeness or because she sees nuns on skates all the time.
I preferred them in the park--a safe place to have fun and not worry about anything. Out there in the rough world, these fragile nuns (grown women older than myself) might get hurt. Not sure why I developed such sudden paternal instincts...I'll chalk it up to too much coffee, but maybe something else is going on.