And now it's August

In 2 days Peter will be starting his 4th month of life outside his mother’s belly. I could write about the relative nature of time, and the “woah, dude” stoned-hippy-like reaction it can cause in both me and my wife, but I’ve already written posts like that before and I don’t want to bore anyone with repeats. However… woah, dude, that was faaaaast.

Peter is being baptized this Sunday. Unfortunately, the forecasts call for it to be, if not hotter than blazes, at least as hot as blazes. There is a fine line there, I believe. The church is air conditioned, but the reception at our house to follow will not be. I can only hope the Big Fridge next door (that is, Lake Michigan) keeps us somewhat comfortable. Peter doesn’t like the heat so much, it makes him sweaty. Myself, I always liked a nice hot day as a youth. But I’m an old man now and I like to have air conditioning sent my way as I eat my early-bird special dinner at Denny’s.

There’s something I don’t quite get about infant baptism, and it has nothing to do with theology. What puzzles me is the baptismal ensemble. I understand the wearing white part. But I don’t quite get why my macho little guy is wearing, well, a miniature wedding dress (plus bonnet). Ok, true, I’ve seen tiny white tuxedos for baptism which look comedic, quite frankly, and I wouldn’t want that. But if you go to any baby clothing store and check out the selection of baptismal attire your choices tend to boil down to a dress, a gown, a frock, or any other synonym that I can’t think of at the moment. What’s wrong with a nice white polo shirt onesie and a soft, weathered baseball cap? Note to Peter’s Mom: I’m only objecting to the convention of dressing the babies, not the outfit you got. Really!