Matthew Gilbert Gleeson was baptized and received into the Church last night, around sixish. The minister was Father Howard Remski, F.S.S.P., and the godparents were Bruce and Melissa Leehan, of St. Michael’s parish.

Above, that’s Melissa, holding Gil. And seated are Dorothy, holding the Leehans’ newest baby, whose name escapes me (but I’ll edit this post later, don’t you worry), and the lovely and radiant Phoebe Gleeson, holding Gil.

I said before that St. Michael’s is the prettiest little chapel you’ve ever seen. But of course that’s only true if you’ve ever seen St. Michael’s. Here is the chapel as it looked last night. Now it’s the prettiest little chapel you’ve ever seen.

That tiny figure waddling up the steps is my elder son, Bede.
 
 
 

There are assorted ceremonies, prayers, and exorcisms involved in the baptism rite, but here’s the money shot. The whole ex opere moment is right here. Water hits forehead, proper words are said, and soul is indelibly marked. You’re a child of God now, Gilbert.

Whoa. Hold up a second. Let’s zoom in on me. You see, I meant to get a nice haircut, but was too busy to visit the barber. Let’s see if this $2000 computer can do what a $10 haircut could have done for yours truly.
 
 
 
 
 
 

Much better. Mr. Gleeson’s hairstyling provided by Macintosh of Cupertino.
 
 
 
 
 
 

Wirt Harris, Gil’s granddad, was in attendance. He was happy, I swear it. Annette was there, too, but escaped all photographs.
 
 
 
 
 
 

After the baptism, 15 of us took a meal at Pioneer Pies, a fine dining establishment. (There are only 13 of us visible in this photo, because two are hidden behind others.)

Father Remski sat between Bede (our annoying exuberant toddler who kept stealing his cornbread) and Christopher Leehan, a fine young man. I even photographed Father giving Christopher a blessing of some sort.

Also joining us were these two beautiful blondes. The one in pink is Rachel. The other, I was told, is named “Harley, like the bike, but not spelled that way.” Since I foolishly neglected to ask how it is spelled, I’m afraid I cannot record her name properly at this juncture. But don’t you worry, I’ll be editing this post later. (Or did I mention that already?)
 
 
 
 
 
 

And here, once more, are the godparents, Bruce and Melissa Leehan, whom I cannot thank enough. But… hey is that Heinz ketchup?
 
 
 
 
 
 

There. This is how that picture would have looked if Pioneer Pies proudly served W brand ketchup.
 
 
 
 
 
 

And this is how it would have looked if we had W brand ketchup, but instead of Pioneer Pies, we were eating on top of a mountain in Hawaii.
 
 
 
 
 
 

And this is how it would have looked if we had W brand ketchup, on top of a mountain in Hawaii, and were joined by crime-fighting cheerleader Kim Possible.
 
 
 
 
 
 

One final thank you to all. Deo gratias.