I'm delighted to hear that Mother Teresa is going to be made a saint.

But I'm also surprised.

That she wasn't already.

I mean, what does it take?

Before I begin, please understand that I'm not criticizing the Catholic Church. This is a humor column, and I'm Catholic myself. Of course, it goes without saying that Mother Teresa is incredibly inspiring, but looked at another way, there's nobody like Mother Teresa to make you feel inadequate, especially in the holiday season.

At this time of year, if you're like me, you're trying to do your actual job while you juggle shopping, wrapping, planning a big meal, and hoping to remember where you put the tree stand.

Nobody remembers where they put the tree stand.

The tree stand is the cellphone of the holiday season.

The only problem is, you can't call it.

Worse yet is trying to find the tree skirt.

Yes, I own a tree skirt.

I don't wear skirts anymore, but my tree does. When it starts to wear pantyhose, we're all in trouble.

But anyway, my point is that in the holiday season, I'm working at maximum capacity and still falling far short. For example, I'm writing this just a few days before Christmas, but I haven't figured out what I'm going to make for dinner, so I haven't gone food shopping, and I haven't gotten a tree yet, so I'm guaranteed to end up with one that's crappy and expensive, which reminds me of my second marriage.

But to get back to Mother Teresa, I can barely deal with the holiday season, and after all the gifts have been opened, the big meal eaten, and the dishes washed, I can tell you that I will feel like a saint.

Saint Lisa, Our Lady of Perpetual Motion.

I'm sure I'm not alone in this. If you are responsible for staging a holiday in your household, you probably feel like a saint, and in my view, you are one.

No matter what your religion.

Every woman can be a martyr.

It's a God-given right, no matter which God you believe in.

So when I heard that Mother Teresa was finally about to attain sainthood, I started to look into what she had done to qualify. First, she was born in Macedonia, which is not near any mall that I know of.

So right there, if you ask me, she's on the fast track to sainthood.

She became a nun at 18 and traveled to India, where she was so moved by the poverty she experienced what she termed "a call within the call." She became "a free nun covered with the poverty of the cross," so she gave up her nun's habit and put on a white sari.

Any woman who wears white deserves sainthood.

In fact, Mother Teresa may be the only woman who ever looked thin in white.

Me, I never wear white.

In white, I look like a glacier.

Mother Teresa lived among the poor, caring for them, even begging for them.

You know me, and the only begging I'm doing is for Bradley Cooper.

Mother Teresa started the Missionaries of Charity, dedicated to caring for "the hungry, the naked, the homeless, the crippled, the blind, the lepers, all those people who feel unwanted, unloved, uncared for throughout society, people that have become a burden to the society and are shunned by everyone."

Wow.

The only people I'm caring for this holiday season are the hungry.

And by that I mean Daughter Francesca and bestie Franca, who will be at my house for the holiday meal. And even at that, Francesca will help with the cooking and Franca will bring the dessert, because, really, enough already.

As for lepers, I admit I'm avoiding them.

I need all my fingers.

For my rings.

Mother Teresa helped children trapped in war in Beirut, radiation victims at Chernobyl, and earthquake victims in Armenia.

OK, but has she ever stood in line at Nordstrom's for a sale sweater?

Or on line at Starbucks, waiting for overpriced caffeine?

I have.

Where's my medal?

Mother Teresa continued her good works despite two suffering heart attacks, pneumonia, and malaria.

Sadly, I think I'm getting a cold.

For her decades of charitable work, Mother Teresa was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979.

But that still wasn't enough for sainthood.

To qualify for sainthood, you have to perform not only one, but two miracles.

And, toughest yet, you have to do them after you're dead.

Look, I understand that we're talking about sainthood here, but that's not a standard many women meet, especially not this woman.

I have only one miracle up my sleeve, and I will perform it on Christmas Day, when I make actual cranberry sauce from scratch, and don't serve the canned kind with those ridges on the sides.

So while I am inspired by Mother Teresa, I'm not her.

And I'm wishing happy holidays to everyone, all of the ordinary people who perform ordinary miracles, every day.

You're all saints to me.

Look for Lisa Scottoline and Francesca Serritella's latest humor collection, "Does This Beach Make Me Look Fat?" Also, look for Lisa Scottoline's new Rosato & DiNunzio novel, "Corrupted," in stores now.