94-year-old Grandma Ethel walks into a church and enters the confession booth.
The priest asks, “What would you like to confess, my child?”
Ethel sighs. “Father… last night I went out with a 22-year-old man.”
The priest freezes.
“He took me to dinner. Candlelight. Dancing. Laughing. Then we went back to his place.”
The priest whispers, “Did something inappropriate happen?”
“Oh yes,” Ethel says proudly. “Very.”
“When was your last confession?” he asks.
“1956.”
Relieved, the priest says, “Then let’s start from the beginning.”
“Oh no,” Ethel replies. “I don’t need forgiveness.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I just wanted someone to brag to.”
Silence.
The priest asks, “Any regrets?”
“Yes.”
Hopeful, he leans in.
“I should’ve worn my good perfume.”
Ethel stands to leave. “And Father—if you hear rumors about me…”
She winks. “Believe them.”
