I’m no longer a practicing Catholic.

But now that the election is over, I may need to confess my sins.

“Bless me, Father,” I would say in the confessional, “for I have said 400 unloving things during political debates, rallies and conventions. Out loud. In front of my children.”

It’s important to note here that I am generally a mother who prides herself on practicing and preaching tolerance whenever applicable. I don’t let my children say bad things about people who are different than they, nor so much as kill a spider that finds its way into the house.

I am also a mother who strode up and down in front of the TV during political conventions and debates, yelling intolerant comments at various and specific candidates, while openly sneering at them in front of my children.

Could it help to know I’m not the only sinner in the room?

“My son said watching me watch the (other) convention, was like watching Dad watch college football on Saturday,” said my friend, Megan. “I kept telling him we have to understand what’s good about all the candidates. But my son says, ‘Then why did you always yell at Sarah Palin when she was on television, Mom?’”

Let me also say that in addition to practicing and preaching tolerance, my friend Megan and I routinely practice other good habits that make us role models for our children. In fact, about the worst I do in front of my kids is sneak my own popcorn into movies. I consistently drive 1-4 miles over the speed limit. OK, and as long as I’m coming clean, I say bad words on particularly significant occasions, like the other day when the lid exploded off the blender, spraying scalding potato soup all over me.

I promise to bring these items before Father while I’m in there.

Meanwhile, I know that part of being cleansed of sin is vowing not to commit them anymore. And therein is going to be our little problem: I’ll do much better saying 400 Hail Marys for penance than going back into the world with a renewed commitment not to say ugly things about people who I think are saying ugly things. That’s the funny thing about my breed of intolerance. My intolerance is almost always in response to other people’s ugliness. Shouldn’t that be OK? Or is this just moral justification, much like saying it’s OK to take in my own popcorn because they are price-gauging me with theirs?

“I’m sorry,” I kept telling my kids, especially my impressionable preteen, even as I was yelling at the TV. I’m not perfect, and neither are the Amish, who reportedly sew the tiniest mistake into each beautifully accomplished quilt. They make the mistake intentionally as noting that only God is perfect.

The same could be said when I’m yelling at the TV. I am not God — and neither is that &^%$#$%B on C-Span.

- Debra-Lynn