I think I’m getting the hang of sleepovers. Yes, you need to clean the house and make the beds and ensure the children’s bathroom is not a biohazardous restriction zone, but you probably should be doing that stuff anyway. Everything else is easy to run. You don’t have to bring the sparkle. You don’t have to be ‘on’. Sleepovers are already exciting.
My twins have an assortment of different friends, but there’s one whom they share. Let’s call her ‘Hermione’.
Last weekend, Hermione stayed overnight. They played games, we watched a movie, I decontaminated the bathroom, and they all went to sleep. We planned to drop Hermione home on the way to morning Mass.
‘We want Hermione to stay long-er!’ Pippi cries. ‘Can’t she come to Mass with us?’
Penny turns to Hermione. ‘Come to Mass. It’ll be great!’
SHARING THE GOOD NEWS
I look at Penny. My child, sharing the Good News. I stop shaking the pancake mix. Penny continues. ‘The talking part is boring, but you don’t have to listen. And there’s cake after!’
Hermione considers briefly. ‘I think I would like it. I’ve never been inside a church before.’
The three of them start petitioning for Hermione’s first church experience. I’d been sending texts to sort logistics, but now my thumb pauses. Would Hermione’s parents think this entire sleepover is an elaborate ploy to convert their daughter into the one holy and apostolic church? And worse: would they think I’m a weirdo?
An hour later, Hermione sits with us near the back of the church. There are a lot of us, so we aren’t all in the same row. I sit behind, which is perfect because I can monitor the three excitable girls, and poke if required.
GOOD INFLUENCE
I hardly need to poke at all. Hermione’s a good influence. As Communion time approaches, I realise with a jolt that I hadn’t prepared Hermione. I quietly poke Penny and explain the situation. She and Pippi are On It. They made their own First Communion a few weeks ago; they are completely across Communion protocol. With hurried whispers, Penny takes Hermione’s hand and places it over her heart, then Pippi shakes her head and crosses Hermione’s arms over her chest. Penny frowns, points to the information slide on the screen, showing hand-on-heart convention, and returns Hermione’s hand to its original position. Pippi concedes and Hermione, a little dazed at having her arms pulled in all directions, stumbles into the queue.
I watch as Hermione approaches to receive her blessing. Good. But what’s this? Hermione has watched Pippi ahead of her. She is keen to fit in. She extends her hand and receives Communion as well.
BEWILDERMENT
There is a moment when she steps to the side, holding the host, unsure of how to proceed. I am sitting too far away to intervene, but Pippi is On It. She doubles back, shakes her head, plucks the Blessed Host from Hermione’s grasp and speedily returns it to the special minister. Hermione is bewildered. The special minister is bewildered. Pippi is completely self-assured. She steers Hermione back to her seat while the minister takes a moment to collect himself.
Fifteen minutes later, I balance a slice of banana cake on a napkin as the girls play in the foyer. Communion fiasco aside, I’m glad Hermione came to Mass. I spend too much time awkwardly skirting around my faith life, downplaying my devotion. Will Hermione’s parents think I’m a weirdo? It’s possible. Did they already think I was a weirdo before this? That is possible too. It’s possible that’s why they like me.
The tea is too hot, but the cake is delicious. Sleepovers? I can totally do sleepovers.
Kate Moriarty is a freelance columnist, author and reviewer. Under Kate Solly, her latest novel The Paradise Heights Craft Store Stitch-Up is available now.