My friend, let's call her "Tee", is a young mother with two beautiful children. Her son is a little spit fire, and cute enough to get away with a whole lot. (He is a mini-version of the rapper T.I.--looks just like him.) He's about six years old. Let's call him "Shawn".
Tee works hard to send her kids to private school. "Private school" in New York City often means "Catholic School". We work at The World Church of Assimilation, but Tee is Baptist. She goes to a large church in Brooklyn with a black congregation. I report from experience that black churches live up to the perception--they are foot stomping, hollering, yell-back-at-the-preacher events. Something to behold, it is enjoyable, but totally out of most white people's frame of reference...a little startling to experience.
Shawn has grown up in that church, spending most Sundays of his entire life in the pews. Of course all the ladies love him there, and dote over him. Being in churh all those Sundays, he has of course noticed that his mother and grandmother, and other people in the congregations holler back at the preacher with "I know that's right!" or "Tell it!" Such things.
Well, in Catholic School, "chapel" is a daily occurrence. Poor Shawn has been getting into trouble lately for "talking back to the priest" during chapel time. He'll shoot his index finger into the sky and proclaim, "YES!" or "Praise God!" He must be so confused about school church and church-church. I find this insanely funny on thousands of levels.
Next time: The valuable lessons of the Santa Claus reveal.