My eight year old daughter is a bit of a mentalist. Searingly bright and mannered, but socially somewhat polar. She can demolish a room with a sideways glance.
Anyways, despite my impotent atheist protestations, she is due to make her First Holy Communion next Saturday, as is the subscribed dogma adhered thereupon by her school. Notwithstanding some inappropriate behaviour in the chapel by my godless offspring (she gets bored and starts flidding out), decorum gets shattered, next thing you know, you've got a prepubescent reformation on your hands.
What I'm really worried about is...she is an incredibly fussy eater. No semblance of vegetable matter will enter her digestive system knowlingly to her. I can envisage that first ingestion of the body of Christ being met with a throat spasm and being forceably ejected across the altar, like.
In this, I know exactly how she feels. Growing up, in corporate Catholicism, these manufactured hosts were the only communion I encountered. And they were fucking rank to the max. It was driven into our heads that the host shouldn't be chewed, like. You had to swallow the fucking tasteless paper-like mulch whole. Well, that always made me fucking retch.
Why can't the transubstantiated host be a donut? Or a burger bun. Or a bit of tattie-bread? Or a sammich?