My Bills Are All Due and the Baby Needs Shoes and

I'm Busted 

I wish I had a three second delay on my mouth like they do on TV in case someone says a cuss word.
When we were first married and I moved to Philadelphia we were invited to join a couples Bible study. I was thrilled. I hoped that this would fill the hole left in my heart for my Bible study I'd left behind. That group had been a rambunctious lot and we had outrageously fun times.
Not so much the conservative, intellectual gathering we'd been invited to join in Philly.
I struggled to keep my mind in the game when the discussions were solemn and the mood drop dead serious.
The husband leader mentioned a fascinating fact and when I asked him where he had found this nugget of information he answered "The Enquirer."
Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather.
"You read the Enquirer? Me too! But only when I'm on an airplane with strangers and out of town. I feel so much better knowing you do too!" I blurted.
A hush fell over the room. Papa Joe turned some shade of purple and the Most High and Holy Man replied, "The Inquirer is the city paper."