Well, the day went off without any arrests, no ambulance and dear Ruprecht Widdy St. Vitus was named. Aunt Vom and I were a little crestfallen, to tell you the truth, it was a rather stuffy affair with ridiculous bonnets and snakes-bum-in-a-sandstorm smiles. So, to water down my ascerbic tone, I’ll describe the christening in verse. And hopefully it will come out sounding as though I am ‘nice’.

Are we not the happiest bunch,
All dressed in black and grey?
All clipped and preened and washed and plucked
For a happy, jolly day.

Aunt Bench conditioned her little beard,
And I ‘Ped-Egg-ed’ my chin.
Folly brought along a dead hedgehog,
Which Aunt Bench placed in the bin.

Aunt Mary Jaffa fainted at once,
Aunt Turgid read books to some dogs.
And Cousin Girda threw an absolute fit,
When Vom pelted the Bishop with clogs.

Aunt Claymore thought the whole affair seedy,
Aunt Gourd did not come at all.
‘It’s the work of the Devil’ she cried down the phone,
And folded her arms in her shawl.

I’d finally pilfed the christening robe,
Made of stuff of which I am vexed.
It’s all lace and silk and embroidery things,
I swear to god we’ll be hexed.

We walked to the barn with the phoney priest,
A one-man-band led the way –
Playing ‘Lip Up Fatty’ on harmonica,
And an excerpt of ‘Whip-Crack-Away’.

When the childs name was first read out,
A snigger came forth from Aunt Vom.
Then Aunt Blenny spun round glaring,
So she quickly sat up with aplomb.

Amazed I was at the Godmother –
Folly’s name was called out by the priest.
What possessed this lunatic pair?
Entrusting her with their young beast?

Uncle Truss was snivelling proudly,
Wiping his nose on his wife.
And worst of all, on their family side –
Scrofula is awfully rife.

Mrs Stiff Black Hat with her earrings,
Cried “Decorum!”, with one finger jabbing.
A knife then appeared from under Vom’s skirts,
What bash doesn’t end with a stabbing?

At the end of the day, the photo’s were done,
But we were not asked to join in.
The pious-clan gathered together in black,
Looking like they’d all sat on a pin.

Back to my hedge for some drinkies,
And their noses turned up at the door.
They didn’t approve of my hovel,
Or Vom’s friends lying drunk on the floor.

Stiff Black Hat hates cuckoo spit wine,
And ‘the hessian crackers weren’t nice’.
But the Old Earwig’s Reserve went down lovely,
And stopped their complaints about mice.

After six dreadful hours they all left,
Ruprecht was screaming away,
His beloved moustache was shaved off,
He’d pined for it most of the day.

My patience, I feared wouldn’t last,
Thank Heavens they chose not to linger.
As their car drove off down the lane –
Us girls held up one middle finger.

(For those unfamiliar with the product, a ‘Ped-Egg’ is the cheese gratery thing you use for extra hard skin on your feet. No affiliation.)