Jesus Welcomes You

It's been balls cold in Michigan, and Sunday was no exception. It was just a cruel coincidence that my niece's baptism fell on the coldest freaking day of the year (so far).

In my extreme idiocy, I wore a dress. I didn't think that it would be that cold. Well. In the time it took us to walk the half-block from the car to the church, my calves were just aching from the bitter cold wind. I was wearing shoes that pinch my toes and make them go numb in seconds, so my feet weren't a problem, really. Besides, I fucking love those shoes.

Adorable!

The church was freezing. I don't think that they even bothered to turn on the heat, as the complete lack of a vestibule meant that the entire parish got blasted with the winter air every single time someone arrived. That air just filtered underneath the pews and my calves were practically begging for mercy. I inched closer and closer to Mike until I was practically sitting behind him.

Mass was lovely, though I will never understand why screaming children are not removed from the sanctuary until they CALM DOWN. I'm not talking about a little noise here and there. No, I'm talking about the blood-curdling screeching that somehow escapes a child's lips. At times it was seriously terrifying. Chills were racing down my spine. I mean, that could have been Mother Nature, sneaking in through the stained glass, but I think that it was more that some children just can't sit still for more than a few minutes.

The baptisms followed the mass. Yes, baptisms. There were four other little ones awaiting their baths of salvation, and my darling goddaughter was the only one who kept her trap shut. In fact, she slept through much of the sacrament. Jesus approves!

Behold my sweetness!

Steven laughed when I asked if anyone had ever dropped a baby into the baptismal font. Kari frowned.

I am honored to be her godmother. Someone has to teach her about dinosaurs, right?

Rawr!