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The christening gown has been there for the enJesusification of four generations of my wife’s family. To think I’m still impressed that the Super Furry Animals t-shirt I got at the 1999 Reading Festival hasn’t died yet.
“It has to be at least 90 years old. That gown might be the oldest thing here,” my wife says, looking around the modern church hall.
I look at some of the parishioners. Maybe not, I think, as my mother-in-law runs off with our child, leaving coos and oohs in her wake.
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