Some good friends of ours just had their second son. Which means that we get to attend a bris this coming weekend. (Note to self: Vienna sausages are funny in theory but wrong on a couple of different levels when offered as a hostess gift at a bris.)
The bris for their older son was the first I'd ever attended. It was so emotional and the mohel was hilarious (who knew Jews were so funny???), and with the exception of my husband actually turning green while anticipating the inevitable, it was by far the nicest ceremonial rite I have attended that ends with someone getting a body part hacked off over bagels and lox. Or at least one of the nicest.
I'll be the shiksa screaming "Fore!"