I struggled to be a good Catholic boy despite Father Sentilla and the awkward feeling that I always had whenever I was near or in the Church. However, besides negotiating with God to save my brother’s life, there was another problem. I understood the change from caterpillar to butterfly but growing into teen age, I couldn’t comprehend exactly what the bumps and curves were all about on the girls. Talk amongst us guys, not to mention the movies, was that they were called breasts, boobs or bosoms, and we were supposed to like them. O, God, I do, I do, I do, but I didn’t know what they looked like outside the shirt. So, I decided to go to Church and pray to see some tits.