The priest proceeds to pour bowl after bowl of ceremonial water on our scalps. My makeup, hair and contact lenses stream down my cheeks. My eyes burn. I wonder if I could get a urinary tract infection this way.
Let me tell you about Madicken. (Mardie in English. Or Meg, but that’s in the American translation and that’s bowdlerized and you should never read it.)
I guyed, but the reeler he gave me hot beef, / And a scuff came about me and hollered; / I pulled out a chive but I soon same to grief, / And with screws and a james I was collared.
I want my part of the bounty.
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