So, the baptism looms. T-minus 6 days and counting to spiritual cleansing. Let the hijinks begin. Click the link below to get the full festive preparations.

We had to do a 'baptism prep class', which is something of a misnomer. The parish has 3 designated couples who are all Hoo-RAH! Yaaaaaay CATHOLICISM! types. You're supposed to meet with them and discuss the baptism, to make sure you understand that this is A Big Deal And Not To Be Taken Lightly. We had set a date and time to meet with one dynamic duo, and then, uh, it turned out they were pregnant her baby was breach and suddenly found herself scheduled in for an emergency C-section. So we had to quickly reschedule, and another one of the yay baptism! couples offered to drive out to our house the next afternoon to have The Talk with us. I gave them the heads-up that I'm Jewish, and the wife was nonplussed for about a half-beat pause of silence before chirping, "That's great! How fascinating! What interesting discussions you two must have!" Which sort of threw me for a loop because, truly, except for the 'oh wow, kid, we need to wrangle two religions in one weekend', it's really not a focal point of our lives. "Honey, could you please pass the asparagus, and while you're at it, I don't think Christ is the son of God." "Sure thing love, And by the by, could you explain Kabbalah to me? I'll believe that the wafer is the body of Christ, but that Sefirot stuff is a bit much." Um, no.

Ever the hostess with the mostest, I debated whether to bake cookies or just buy something. Eventually I settled for running to the kosher deli and buying rugelach, a subtle culinary comment that the Lad duly noted and half-heartedly chastised me for (bad wench! bad! ooooh, cinnamonny...) Alas, the lad got held up at work and so was a bit late, leading to a fun 15 minutes of uncomfortable chatting about our religious observances. They have 3 children, one of whom is a server or somesuch at the church, and she was asked to work the Easter Vigil mass. The wife told me about this in great, enthusiastic detail, an offering of how serious and devout the observances at that church, rather than the glitzy overproduced suburban megachurches, are. I countered with a dry observation that I had not participated in Shauvot this year, the all night Torah study. Man, I didn't pull all night study sessions in college, I have no idea why I offered this up, other than to say "Oh yeah? Well my people can be even MORE sleep deprived than yours!"

The lad eventually showed up, and we got down to the business of discussing the baptismal rite, its meahning, and what's involved. Things were dandy until we got to the small detail of the exorcism. Apparently my face was a study, and the wife allowed as how yes, some people- even Catholics- were caught a little off guard by this aspect of it. I have to admit, I didn't handle this detail with a lot of grace, as instead of saying, "When you say 'exorcism', you mean ritual banishment of satan, yes?" I choked out, "Exorcism? You mean like..." and made a head-spinny gesture pea-soup vomiting noise, which did nothing to enhance their impression of me as an open-minded literate person. At least I chose that image, rather than miming masturbating with a crucifix.

That small misunderstanding aside- and I have to say, that will be the part of the service that I have the biggest issue with as I fundamentally do not believe it's Satanic Open Season on Babies and so the implication that my child might be tainted or otherwise under the control of a hellbeast rather rankles me in the same way the concept of original sin annoys me-we did a-ok in the 'class', and are cleared for baptism (holy water, awaaaaaaaay!). The couple we met with exorted us to keep the anniversary of our child's baptism as a special day; they relight the baptismal candles for their kids (and then what? snuff them out, expunging the light of the lord? this seems a bit odd to me) and bake a cake (in the shape of a cross, natch. Man, I would be so, so hard pressed not to frost it in chocolate to make it look like wood and decorate it with a Ken doll in a loin cloth). Given the date, I think we will merely observe it by being hungover from the 4th of July, quietly reflecting on the lord's miracle of Advil liquigels.