Of course I did not get to see the baptism. Mainly because I am sure no one in the church really needed to hear, “MOMMY, WHAT THEY DOING TO BABY”; or, my favorite, as he points to a person we do not know, “MOMMY, WHAT IS DAT?”. And, of course, all is said in the loudest, most annoying voice and always - and I do mean always - said at least 5 times in a row. His new thing is to repeat himself over and over. I often consider myself lucky if I get away with only 5 repeats considering that I am usually assaulted with an all out blitz of the same sentence:

“WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?” “WHAT YOU DOING, MOMMY?”

This is usually when I finally break down into a pathetic, crazed version of my formal self - disheveled with branches sticking out of my hair - screaming, “Please, for all that is holy, stop saying that!”

Anyway, the church had a nice garden, and we hung out there in the shade. And, of course, I had my camera.