My Brush With Catholocism: The Almost Final Chapter

My nephew Nico was on his way to being a full-fledged Catholic. His christening day began as my sister spent an hour stuffing him into a white suit with a three-inch black tie that looked like it was meant for a fifty-year old, highly fashionable elf.  Basically, she had to fork out $200.00 on a spread of highly stainable fabric that he would wear only once.  Oh, but did he look cute and the christening went off without a hitch.  In fact, after my nine-year-old Baptist son finished playing in the fountain of holy water, I pulled my four-year-old Baptist daughter away from the statue of a saint she was straddling and loaded up the entire family in the mini-van. We high-tailed it out of the parking lot, straight to the Golden Corral where we gorged ourselves on every variety of chicken and pudding you can imagine.  So, with all due respect to my Catholic friends, bless their hearts, I think I'll stick to being a baptist.