St. Joseph, My Realtor

"Saint Anthony's Catholic Store, this is Tiffany. How may I help you?" I say into the phone, juggling new books and prayer cards.

"Yes, uh, do you have any St. Joseph statues?" Says a voice on the other end, slightly hesitant with a thick southern accent..

I want to roll my eyes for the fifth time today. "No, I'm sorry. The only Catholic store in Greenville doesn't actually care anything with St. Joseph." Well, that's what I want to say. Instead, I'm nice.

"Yes, ma'am, we sure do." I say cordially. "Are you trying to sell a house?"

"Yeah!" They respond enthusiastically. As if to say, "How ever did you know?"

"Well, we do have several home-sell kits." Thank God, since the news did a report on it, we've been selling them like there was no tomorrow.

We hang up, the come to the store minutes/hours/days later and look at the St. Joseph statues. Almost always buying the cheapest. I chat with them as we make our way to the register.

I leave out the bit about my dad selling our house just fine without St. Joseph burried upside-down in our front yard with his feet pointing to my new home just 12 inches away from the For Sale sign. If you want St. Joseph's help, you'll have to be specific about it I guess. Or so say the manufacturers.

"Now, don't forget to say the prayers!" I say with a smile as I ring them up. "Or you will have wasted your time and money."

"The what???"


♥Tiffany Anne