My old friend Vicki was something. She was, and is an amazing photographer (professionally even) and a great singer. Vicki's got game. As the oldest of six, growing up Catholic in New Jersey, she obviously knew a lot about babies and where they come from.
When Vicki was in second grade, she and her class were practicing at school to receive their First Holy Communion. Holy Communion in the Roman Catholic Church is one of the seven sacraments and considered the ACTUAL body of Christ. Okay, that debate aside. So, the nun who was running the practice, complete with her little clicker (you know like the ones that came in the box game of Jeopardy that you were supposed to use when you knew the answer in lieu of a buzzer) clicking when the kids should sit, stand and kneel.
The nun was also drilling the kids. "Who can tell me what the Holy Eucharist is?" she quizzed. Vicki's hand shot up. "Yes, Victoria," said the nun, who always called the children by their full Christian names. "You know," replied Vicki with a small secret smile, pointing to her stomach. "In here."
"What do you mean?" asked the nun, slightly disturbed. Vicki was annoyed at the nun's denseness. "You KNOW," she pressed on. "In here. Where the babies grow. The Holy Uterus."
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