When I got home last night the girls were deeply involved in a new religion they had invented.

This is the plight of the working father. When you leave the house in the morning your children are sweetly rubbing their eyes and rocking baby dolls in their pajamas. But then you come home after only a few brief hours and they are wearing flowered party hats and “baptizing” each other on the couch. This baptism apparently is a mix between something they saw happen at church, and something they saw on WWF pay-per-view in the ’80s.

Clara, in the official position indicated by the pointy hat, would wrap her arms tightly around her little sister and ask. “Do you believe in Jesus?”

I do not know if this was a question or a challenge, because regardless of the response the squirming light weight would be lifted over Clara’s pointed head and immediately be body slammed onto the arm of the couch while the elder sister yelled “Baptize!”.

Directly afterwards both children would instantly climb off the couch, stand to face the room and sing an off key rendition of “I Have Decided To Follow Jesus”. Some might assume that Jesus was the Mexican Lucha Libre master that had trained them in the craft.

This continued for much of the evening until Lydia was excommunicated from the fellowship for scribbling in one of Clara’s school books.