A nurse walks into the confessional, sighs heavily, and kneels down.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she whispers. “It’s been two weeks since my last confession, and I’ve been having some very… unprofessional thoughts about one of the surgeons.”
The priest clears his throat. “Go on, my child.”
“Well,” she continues, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur, “yesterday in the breakroom, he leaned over to check a chart, and I couldn’t help but imagine stripping off his lab coat, pinning him against the drug cabinet, and showing him exactly how to check a pulse without using a stethoscope.”
There’s a long, heavy silence from the other side of the curtain.
“Father?” she asks. “Are you there? Is the penance going to be that bad?”
The priest lets out a long, shaky breath and says, “To be honest, Sister, I’m just trying to figure out how many ‘Hail Marys’ it’s going to take for me to stop wishing I’d gone to med school.”
