A little girl's Communion day is a bit like a dress rehearsal for her wedding...
It's another big year in our house this year with the impending First Communion of The Youngest. The Eldest had already been through the whole rigmarole - monthly masses, religious workbooks and parent/priest meetings so we knew what to expect.
But it's different when it's a girl. It's a bit like a dress rehearsal for her wedding! With a boy you just throw a shirt and pants on them, wash their faces and flatten their hair.
With a girl it's so much more. There's the dress for a start, not to mention the hair and leaving my heathen shallowness aside for a second, there's also the religious aspect. Girls take that much more seriously than boys.
With The Eldest, he couldn't have cared less about any of it, not even the money he was pretending not to expect from the relations. He didn't particularly want a party and hid in his room with his nintendo for most of the day when us adults guzzled wine and the smaller kids wore themselves out on a bouncy castle in the lashing rain.
Herself on the other hand is up to ninety and it's only the start of October. I could understand if it was the dress or the party or even the money she was excited about.
But it's the religion! She absolutely can't wait to make her first confession, this I suspect is going to be her personal highlight.
'What will I do if I don't have any sins?' she asked the other night. The Eldest snorted before adding, 'that's highly unlikely!'
'Well, everyone has sins,' I tell her, 'it's just sometimes we don't realise they're sins.'
Yaaaaay me. Who'd have thought I could act like a good Catholic parent! She thought about it for a minute before saying, 'Nope I don't have any sins yet, but I might have by the time I make it. If not I'll just tell him I'm very good.'
Meanwhile she seems to have 'found God' and we're all feeling the repercussions. She's insisting we all go to mass every Sunday and sit in the front seat so God can see us. She's also taken to saying nightly prayers which can go on for quite a while.
'Father L says we must go to mass every Sunday and say our prayers,' when I start to protest about saying another Hail Mary.
'Yes but it's more important to be a nice person, to be kind to people and to behave well,' I say wishing we had converted to buddism.
'Yes but you have to go to mass and say your prayers as well,'she insists before launching into the Our Father.
So while the other mothers are giving out about their daughters becoming obsessed with dresses and gloves and veils and cakes (did you know about communion cakes? I didn't!) my one is at home saying another decade of the rosary. It's going to be a long eight months.
New Ross Standard