Our local church has an annual trip to a outdoor play area for children and their parents. It was held yesterday and, as we sat there in the drizzle, getting sunburnt (welcome to the Irish summer), I was chatting to another mother about what secondary schools our children might go to – a topic that fills me with gloom and dread as I continue to do nothing about it.
Her: What about school x?
Me: Mmm, not sure.
Her: You’re probably too late anyhow, unless you’re Church of Ireland?
Me: For heaven’s sake, of course I’m not C of I, we’re on the [catholic] church outing.
Her: Actually, I am C of I.
Me: But you go to mass every Sunday.
Her: Yes. Well, it’s a trek to a C of I church.
Me: And your daughter’s an altar girl.
Her: Yes.
Me: In fact, I thought you were a particularly devout Catholic.
Her: Well, I am devout, I’m just not picky.
