Bill Linnane: Our last First Holy Communion was as expensive, stressful and special as all the others

A lot of prep goes into First Holy Communions. Photo: Getty

Bill Linnane

There is a special kind of madness that descends around the time of a First Holy Communion. You may think you are above such things; that your educated cynicism and complete lack of faith will prevent you from succumbing to any kind of religious hysteria. But one minute you are condescendingly telling your wife that there is no need to panic as it’s only her family coming over, and the next you are in some sort of religious trance in the living room, whirling like a Sufi Dervish with Shake N’ Vac in one hand and the hoover in the other, trying to mask the odours of ten thousand meals eaten in front of the TV.

By the time I realised that the madness had taken hold, I was already lost to it, and found myself outside hoovering the patio and starting to contemplate hoovering the lawn — the sort of behaviour that would get one sectioned in less gentle times.