Don't Wake the Pope

When ever I would stay over night at Grandma Santa's house, I would sleep with her. Grandpa Joe's room was right next to hers. He would rise early, about 5 a.m., and get read for work. Sometimes, I woke up while he was getting ready and sat up in bed to see him. Before he went downstairs, he would peek around the corner of the door and see me, about ready to talk to him. At that point, he would always put his index finger up to his lips and whisper, "Shh, the Pope's sleeping." No matter how many times he did it, I would giggle and go back to sleep. I wondered then, and still do, if he was talking about the Pope in Rome or the "Pope" sleeping next to me.