Little Angels

Over the last few weeks I’ve taken the little ones to church with me. There have been a number of things that have been both wrong and astonishing. Just after I got back from Boston for some reason I was feeling remarkably cavalier, and I happily volunteered to take both twins to the 6.30PM mass on the Saturday evening. Given that I’d never attempted to take Capucine anywhere where she is required to be quiet for longer than 30 seconds, the decision to take them both to mass for the first time now seems like jet-lag fuelled folly… It was cold so we took the car. Maybe I forgot to mention that the church is just opposite the entrance of the stud farm. Driving the 500 metres to the entrance of the stud farm, parking up, and then crossing the road to go to church seemed like overkill even at the time. Thankfully we avoided the disapproving stares of the rest of the congregation because we were late. We did not however escape the funny looks at the end of the service as we all piled back into the car and then proceeded to indicate to turn left and then drive back into our “driveway” whilst everyone else turned right to go into town. The use of the car would have been the epitome of laziness if it weren’t for the fact that it was -2C and that Gaston and Capucine were in their slippers and pajamas. During the service itself they were also relatively well behaved – the one thing that trumps jet-lag fuelled folly is copious supplies of biscuits and not one, but two, colourful books (to avoid squabbling you understand). All very impressive, and a complement concerning the behavior of the twins from one old lady at the end even made me feel confident that I could even try taking Capucine to the serious big church in the centre of town the week after. So a week later we trundled off again, just the two of us this time, but late again. As we drove the 10 minutes to get there Capucine was her normal self, chattering away. We discussed the impending event and she readily accepted the need to be quiet and she even raised her finger to her mouth and made lots of little “ssssh” noises to show that she had understood. I was absolutely gobsmacked that not only had she understood, but that she then proceeded to say not a single word for an hour. Not a squeak. For anyone who has had the pleasure of spending even five minutes in Capucine’s presence, you will realize the enormity of what actually happened. I can’t help but think that there was some sort of Divine (and not even Biscuit flavoured) Intervention going on. At any rate I saw a new side to Capucine which was infinitely more enjoyable that the constant stream of “no’s” that she’s getting very good at. A little set of angels indeed; there’s hope for us all it seems!