One day in college, as I mentioned that I was off to Mass on a holy day of obligation, a Protestant friend, who knew nothing about such things asked what I was talking about. After a brief explanation, he said, "Man, I'm glad I'm a Methodist...all I ever need is a covered-dish and a softball glove."
When I married my bride, who was raised Catholic, I discovered that casseroles were more foundational for her than the catechism.
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