So, Gavin got baptized today. In the Catholic Church, no less. It's a long story. I'm not Catholic. Stacy's not Catholic. In fact, we aren't even Christian. Don't believe in God, in fact.
So how and why did this baptism thing happen? My dad. He believes in that stuff and it was important to him and Stacy and I were all, "Sure, why not?" If it makes my dad sleep better at night thinking that Gavin is now on some e-vite list to some future party in the sky then why not do it? My mom also believes in that sort of thing and so even though she's not Catholic, she is happy about it, too.
It's kind of a delicate situation, because I know that baptism is a big deal for some folks, surely for the priest that did Gavin's, and so I don't mean to come across like a total dick about it. To each her own and all that. I'm just saying that Gavin's baptism wasn't exactly life changing or earth shattering, but more of a way to do something that my dad feels is meaningful for his grandson. So that's that.
Gavin's response to getting baptized? "Gavin hair all wet." He thought the whole thing was pretty cool.
Like I said, I'm not religious. I did grow up going to an Episcopal church. I should really say I was forced to go to an Episcopal church and that I hated every second of it. In any case, I still know "The Lord's Prayer" by heart and was able to recite it today, no problem. As a poet, I appreciate the prayer as verse. It is quite nice, actually. When I was a kid, whenever I heard, "Our father who art in heaven," I always pictured God (a dude with a beard, naturally) with an easel in front of him holding a paintbrush just, you know, doing art. Arting (verb). Hallowed by thy name and all that.
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