Many years ago, my friend Hilary O’Connor asked me to come to her nephew’s christening. “It’s karaoke”, she said, as if this was perfectly normal. I was at school with the O’Connors and they do weddings, christenings, even funerals (especially funerals), better than any family I know. The Karaoke Christening was a perfect example. Somewhere there exists an old camcorder cassette of Hilary and me singing this with great gusto once Satan had been renounced and the baby declared a Catholic. I saw the baby last night – now a strapping lad in his twenties – at a 50th birthday party. This time, the O’Connors were merely guests and not hosts. Just as well. Otherwise, there’d have been karaoke and shameful footage of us giving a repeat performance of our greatest hit on YouTube this morning.
It was no ordinary christening.

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