Terrible day with St Peter

I don't mind telling you, it was a terrible day when I met Saint Peter. I had been standing there in the queue outside the Pearly Gates for at least an hour. I must have died at a busy time, because there were plenty of people waiting to be let in Paradise. I had already consumed two bottles of soft drinks and a packet of potato chips; and to be honest, I wanted to get to the toilet.

Eventually my turn came to be next by the Pearly Gates. An angel opened it and let me in. He led me to a room and asked me to wait.

I immediately realised by the Saint's absence that he was not taking his job seriously. Here I was, having waited for an hour to be let in, and bursting to go to the toilet, and he was out fishing, or doing something else more important, no doubt!

A few minutes later he came in and sat at his desk. He asked me my name and tapped furiously at his computer.

He then looked at me from on top of his spectacles and asked, "Why do you want to get in Heaven?"

"I want to be with God for eternity!" I replied confidently to impress him.

"And what makes you think He wants to be with you for this length of time?" he asked abruptly.

I hesitated. He continued, "You'd be surprised how many people think they have a personal right to get in here as if it was a hotel with all expenses paid!"

He looked at his computer monitor and then asked, "Why have you been so half-hearted about re-cycling and caring for the environment?"

I was knocked sideways by this unexpected question. There I was, trying to remember my sins since my last confession when the slate was wiped clean, and here he was asking me about re-cycling and the environment.

He noticed my hesitant silence and said, "I see from your records that you never bothered to re-cycle old plastic bottles, newspapers and cartons, metal cans, glass bottles and such materials. You had the choice to return them to the re-cycling centre but you disposed of them as trash."

"Eh ... gulp ..." I heard myself say.

"And you have a terrible carbon foot print ..." he added reading from his screen.

I looked at the bottom of my shoes and said nothing. I did not even know what he meant by carbon foot print.

"You always left all the lights on in the house; even in empty rooms. Wasting electricity and adding to carbon emissions. You had a wasteful car and always drove everywhere; even down the shops only half a mile away, instead of walking. You boiled a whole 2 litres kettle of water to make one cup of tea. Your home was either too hot like an oven, with windows open; or too cool with the air-conditioning at full blast. You were wasteful of the earth's resources and did not care about the environment, the planet, your fellow human beings or generations to come!"

I was totally flabbergasted. Since when did St Peter join the Save the Planet Police? Re-cycling and the environment were never mentioned by the priest in his Sunday sermons. Admittedly, he droned on a bit and sent me to sleep, only to be awakened by a sharp elbow in the ribs, but I never heard him preach about re-cycling.

I tried to justify myself and mumbled, "Excuse me your Sainthood ... I have always been a good man. A good husband ... a good father ... an acceptable son-in-law ... a good employee. I have never cheated on my wife. Even when that young secretary was only too willing and encouraging. I never had impure thoughts towards her ... let alone carry them out. I have been faithful to my wife ..."

"What do you want? A medal?" he interrupted, "being faithful to your wife is your obligation. It is what you promised in your marriage vows.

"Pity you did not also promise to look after and protect your planet. It is your duty to leave the place in a better state than you found it."

"Give me a second chance ..." I cried and pleaded, "give me second chance and I will re-cycle ... I will re-cycle ... I will re-cycle ..."

I woke up mumbling to myself, "I will re-cycle my mother-in-law ..."

For some reason, I got the silent treatment that day. No hot meal either.