The Great Communion Cracker Incident of '09

For context: I was seven. Very devout. Very snack-motivated.

I’d been told my whole life that these tiny wafers were, like, top-tier holy.

So naturally, I assumed they’d taste amazing.

Angel food cake vibes. Maybe with a hint of miracle.

First communion day. Big moment.

The pastor places that tiny wafer on my tongue.

I close my eyes, ready for a spiritual flavor explosion.

It tasted like… cardboard.

Dry, flavorless, slightly dusty cardboard.

My face must’ve done something tragic—because the pastor leaned in and whispered, "It’s not about the taste, son."

Too late.

I panicked.

Tried to discreetly drink some grape juice to wash it down.

Ended up choking.

Coughed.

The wafer exited stage left—straight onto the church carpet.

There was a moment of silence.

Then my grandma whispered, "Well. At least he didn’t swallow his sins."

Fun fact: The carpet stain lasted longer than my solo singing assignment.

Anyway, I haven’t been offered a solo since. 🍇🙃