tl;dr: …at least he didn’t burst into flames, so we must be doing something right.
…Little Victor, my oldest son, had his first confession on Saturday. It’s one of those things you have to do, being a student in a Catholic school. I don’t know what he had to confess to… I didn’t ask, but I assume it had something to do with farting at dinner time.
To be honest, I had no idea what was going on during the ceremony. The service was in French… Victor can speak the language, but I know exactly just enough French to get me into trouble (basically I can order a couple of chiens chauds and a bière froide at a hockey game).
It was the same thing when I was a kid… Big Victor, my fluently bilingual grandfather, used to take my brother and I to church every Sunday during our summers together. The services were in French. So I had no idea what was going on then either.
But over the years I did develop some hardcore skills at sitting still and standing / kneeling in unison. Apparently those skills last forever, because at Victor’s service I was up and down like a Pro-level Catholic and looking like I had some clue as to what was happening.
“Come together”, by Godsmack, from ‘Live & Inspired’ (2012)