Jesus, Cats, and Ceremonies

Today’s chuckle is about little kids and the church ordination of baptism. The very mention of it takes me back to the summers of my childhood and those long afternoons spent swimming with my sisters and our friends in a small community pool in Tallulah, LA. There’s no way of knowing how many times we baptized each other in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. One thing is for sure, it happened on a regular basis.

Sometimes the one being dunked had volunteered for this rite of baptism, but I must admit that there were other times when the dunked one was seized and indoctrinated by our tribe with zero regard to his or her religious persuasion. Bless their hearts, for all we knew they could’ve been sprinklers, forced to submit to total immersion. Little kids are not big on political correctness, which brings me back to today’s chuckle.

The story goes that one Sunday morning the young son of a Baptist minister had the opportunity to witness his first baptism by immersion. He found it very interesting. So interesting, in fact, that the next morning he proceeded to baptize his three cats in an old tub in the backyard.

The youngest kitten bore the whole experience without putting up much of a fight, as did his older sister, but the family tom cat rebelled. The old cat struggled with the boy with everything in him, clawing and tearing the youngster’s skin before getting away. With considerable effort the boy caught the old cat and proceeded again with the “ceremony.”

This time the cat acted worse than ever, clawing and spitting, and scratching the boy’s face. Finally, after barely succeeding in splattering the cat with water, the boy dropped the old cat on the ground in total disgust and said, “Fine, be a Methodist if you want to!”

Hugs,
Shellie