Yesterday was my niece's confirmation into the Catholic Church.
Okay, I'm sorry if this offends anyone, but we are not big church goers. My husband is Catholic, but hasn't attended church regularly since college. Needless to say my kids are not well schooled in "church". When my DD was little, she referred to Jesus as "Cheez Its".
Yesterday, we ensconced ourselves into the pew (Not the pew that my mother-in-law, a still devout Catholic, assigned us, mind you. I and the three kids went to the back, so as to not disturb the serious devotees.) Surrounded by much more pious than I, my kids proceeded to ask the following questions:
"So this is church? What kind of drinks do they serve here?"
"They give kids WINE?"
"Who's that guy up on the wall?"
"Is Jesus still a baby?"
"I thought you said we could sing. I don't know these songs."
"I'm BORED!!"
"Mommy, you have a pot belly!!"
(It reminded me of a story my sister told me years ago about her then two year old son. They were driving past a huge Catholic cathedral. It had a GIGANTIC Jesus on the cross in stone up on the front that could be seen for miles. As they drove past, my nephew exclaimed: "Someone should get that guy down from there!")
Anyway, as all of you Catholics are aware, a high mass is very long. On top of that I have started Weight Watchers. In anticipation of the high calorie meal to follow the ceremony, I had consumed only 3 of the 30 "points" I am assigned per day for breakfast. I was starving! I couldn't stop thinking about food. The priest spoke several times about the "Lamb of God". Mmmm, I thought. Lamb chops would be awesome! A can of cling peachs in syrup rolled under the pew in front of me. A renegade offering to the poor. I eyed it with a rumbling tummy. The priest asked that anyone who brought canned goods for the hungry, please place them in the box at the front of the church. I imagined Chef Boyardee. Green beans. Cream of Mushroom soup simmered in chicken. It was a veritable torture chamber for this hungry little dieter.
Alas, the ceremony ended. My proud niece and gleaming mother in law strode down the aisle. I skittered out the door with my little whiners.
As a side note, did I tell you what my niece wanted to use as her confirmation name? Britney. As in St. Britney Spears. Her mom talked her into Mary.
I went five points over my allottment that day. Stouffers chicken lasagne was calling my name.
