So then…I tap my car blinker, round a corner, and catch Chloe’s eye in the rear-view mirror.
“What’s wrong, honey? You look worried,” I say to my 6-year-old daughter.
My son Tucker, age 9, turns around from the front seat to look at his little sister in the back.
“Well,” she says, “I’m can’t think of anything to confess for my Reconciliation.”
“Ohhh,” says Tucker. “I remember doing that when I was in second grade. You have to confess some sins to the priest before you can have your First Holy Communion.”
“Yeah,” says Chloe. “And it’s this weekend and everyone in my Communion class has to have a sin to tell Father Tom.”
“Well, honey, you shouldn’t stress about it,” I reassure her.
“But I don’t know what to say. What should I confess?” she asks.
“How about ‘Triple Homicide?’” I say.
Tucker bursts out laughing.
“What, what?” says Chloe.
“Triple Homicide!” says Tucker. “Yes, definitely say that, Chloe!”
“What does it mean?” she asks. “What’s tripplehommassigh?”
(Geez, what’s wrong with this kid? Doesn’t she watch Law & Order?)
“Oh, it just means you disobey your parents sometimes,” I say.
Tucker snickers. “Yeah, that’s right,” he says.
(Clearly he agrees with me it would be hysterical to have this darling little 6-year-old girl sweetly confess to murder to our elderly parish priest.)
But Chloe’s suspicious of our merriment. “Wait, what does it REALLY mean?”
“OK, OK. It means you killed 3 people,” I say.
“WHAT! Mom! I’m not gonna say that to Father Tom!” she exclaims.
“Yes, you should. Just sit down and whisper menacingly, ‘I’m confessing to Triple Homicide. And if you tell anyone, I’ll make it QUADRUPLE.’”
Tucker laughs so hard.
Chloe is horrified. (especially once we tell her what “quadruple” means)
But we tell her how funny this is – and how priceless the priest’s expression would be – and she actually considers it.
But of course on the big day, she chickens out and confesses to something totally lame like fighting with her brother or talking back to her parents.
Tucker and I are sorely disappointed.
But our spirits are lifted on the day of Chloe’s First Holy Communion when she provides us with a big belly laugh.
The Church is filled with the adorable 2nd graders – girls in gorgeous white dresses and veils; boys in mini suits and slicked back hair. The families are all beaming on this momentous occasion.
Chloe and a classmate are chosen to carry the bread and wine up the aisle to the altar to give to the priest.
As Chloe proudly walks up that aisle, past all the parishioners, she stumbles and DROPS the bread basket! The basket tumbles forward – and the consecrated holy hosts are about to go skittering across the floor in all directions!
There’s a collective “gasp!” from the congregation witnessing the travesty.
Thank God, (yes, I mean that LITERALLY), the basket rights itself before landing on the floor – with the Communion hosts safely intact inside! They do NOT touch the floor and do NOT need to be destroyed.
She quickly grabs up the basket and scrambles up the aisle to the altar, practically shoving it in the hands of the priest.
Tucker and I look at each other and lose it. We’re biting our lips with laughter.
“One job. She had ONE job…”
(Of course Tucker is no stranger to creating an embarrassing ruckus in Church himself, as THIS story will quickly prove!)
— Darcy Perdu
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(Any embarrassing Church stories to share? When you were 6, what “sins” would you have been guilty of? Ever convince your kid to say something funny unbeknownst to them?)
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