Bill Granger's Ricotta Hotcakes - Danish Style
I remember when I was scheduled to have my First Communion – a few weeks before we had to prepare by going to our first confession. For those who don’t know what this means, basically, you enter a little booth, divided by a wall – one side sits a priest and one the other end is you. You tell the priest your sins and transgressions and ask for forgiveness. Some classmates planted this notion that the more sins we could confess, the better. Not only that, the longer I could drag out my confessions – the more chances I would go to heaven. So my first confession (and the subsequent ones for several years!) contained lots of trivial and irrelevant confessions from “I was angry with this friend”, “I did not finish my vegetables for dinner” or “I told my Mum I took a bath when in fact I just ‘wet’ the soap so she would think I did”
I can imagine the poor priest on the other end of the confessional wishing that this little girl would just shut up!
Trissalicious 