Who's on first?

We went to church this morning.

Which is to say, we went to a wedding, which was held at a church.  It was an Anglican service, so it struck me as bizarrely formal and packed with arcane regalia.  God help me if I ever go back in a Catholic church.

It was an unusual wedding.  The bride was an Anglican deacon.  And so was the bridegroom.  (And what's with that terminology?  Isn't a groom someone who brushes horses?) So there's probably an Abbott and Costello routine in there where the groom argues with the priest later on:
"I married my wife a year ago today."
"No, I married your wife. And you."
Hmm, perhaps not.

I worked a late shift last night so I was pretty wrecked.  During one of the many moments of religious contemplation, I closed my eyes and had a little quiet time.  Unfortunately for me, the Hatchling was sitting next to me, with an eagle-eye for detail.

"Dad!  WAKE UP!"

Made me feel so disreputable.