I took the little 6-year-old princess to church Saturday for acolyte training.
In case you don't know, that's where they bring a lighted wick down to the altar, light a candle and then at the end return to snuff out the light, relight the wick and head out of the church with the flame.
My daughter couldn't have been happier if selected the winner of "American Idol."
Practice went fine and I am sure whatever Sunday she makes her debut, the entire extended family -- whatever in the world that means -- will attend.
Hopefully, the extended family does not include ex-wives, ex-husbands and those on parole or we'll have to bring out the folding chairs. I pray they'll be able to refrain from flash photography, whooping and hollering, or soliciting gifts from the congregation for the occasion.
After practice concluded, our preacher met with the newly trained acolytes, told them he needed to pray, then we would have a special surprise.
One of the other acolytes quickly guessed that meant a party of sorts and everyone squealed with delight ... well, except me, as I was still trying to remember do you light the candle, then bow, or the other way around.
After it quieted down, my little girl exclaimed, "I'm so excited. I love parties. I'm going to jump up and dance on the table."
There are many things I some day hope to hear my darling beauty say before I die. Things like, "I'll always love you, Daddy" ... "I have a job, Daddy" ... "I graduated from college, Daddy" ... "We've decided not to put you in a nursing home, Daddy."
But dancing on tables is most definitely not on the list.
She later followed up by offering that she saw iCarly do the same and, like iCarly, she wanted to "take off her shirt and dance on the table."
Considering I was still in the church sanctuary -- and in deference to the holy place where I stood -- I instantly turned to a pillar of salt and crumbled into a fine granular dust.
I've watched "iCarly" on a number of occasions with my daughter. OK, I know that is a stark confirmation of a man who has completely lost his mind, but, honestly, I've never seen anyone take off anything on that show. I pride myself in being aware of almost every show in which someone takes off their clothes.
I thought this show was wholesome and little Carly was cute and sweet. Maybe I should check my TV offerings a little closer. I fear the little angel may be sneaking downstairs late at night and turning on Pleasure Cove or some other late night nudie offering.
She was, of course, completely oblivious to the entire event. I certainly hope this is not a harbinger of things to come. I already have a little boy who will strip naked at the drop of a hat. If this continues, I may have to reconsider being a Methodist.
Maybe I need to take them to a fundamentalist Baptist church, but they'd probably have to go alone because I likely wouldn't qualify to enter the door.
Oh well, we're all excited to see the little angel light the candles.
But please, once it's over, no party. We'll all need to rush home to fit the angel in a burka.
I'm afraid it's going to be a long next 15 years.
Contact columnist T. Gamble at email@example.com.