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Debaptised

It’s official: I received notification of debaptism.
In record time, I would say: I registered on the 14th, and the answer arrived today.
I’m a little sorry: I have beautiful memories of that remote village on a hill in Molise, where I also made my first communion.
However, as far as I’m concerned, it is a duty.
And I was meditating on a great truth: one of my nephews is unfortunate.
The priest who baptized him has defrayed himself, and I, his godmother, got debaptised.
Almost from Guinness.

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