Chippie’s Christening today.
We were all organised, the cake picked up and dropped off at the restaurant, and the “How come you Christened me without asking me?” questions deftly avoided.
Christenings aren’t really my thing, and I’m not a particularly religious person. Certainly not practicing. I’m not even Catholic. Grumpy is, but less practicing than I am. If that is possible. But I’m always up for a party, and this is what he wanted, so I went along with it. Besides, I didn’t have the energy to discuss it further … what with all the lack of sleep I’ve had lately.
The Christening gown was obtained from some great aunt or other removed relative. It’s been in the family, and worn by most, if not all, the descendants of Grumpy’s great-grandmother. It’s 108 years old, or maybe 104, but we do know it was worn by Aunt Nellie who is 104. Or 106. Or maybe she’s 103 or 105. Old anyhoo.
Strict instructions re cleaning of gown were given. No dry cleaning, no putting in washing machine, etc etc etc. We decided just to not let it get dirty.
Off we walked to church for the mass and Christenings of several other babies. The priest advised me “loved Christening babies” but he sounded really sarcastic to me. And I know sarcasm.
We sat and watched the kids squirm. My phone went off (whoopsie) with it’s