of mice and muslims

Afternoon tea with the Mammy at the Deelish Cafe in the town of Athy.
MC Hamster is peeping out of my collar.
I am hoping that the other diners will not spot her as some people are not at ease sharing their cafe with a golden mouse.
Outside the sun is shining.
The Mammy and me are discoursing liberally on great affairs of culture, society and the nation.
"Is Anissa a Muslim?" enquires the Mammy out of the blue.
"Her father is," quoth me.
"What's she?" insists the Mammy.
"I'd say she's reserving her position," quoth me.
"Not that it matters," muses the Mammy.
"Of course it doesn't matter," sez me. "We could have a sort of mixed Muslim Christian wedding ceremony. Jointly conducted by the Ayatollah Beheshti and, and, and..."
"And Archbishop Diarmuid Martin," puts in the Mammy cheerfully.
I laugh less loudly than she does.
"Come to think of it," sez me, "If those were the choices, I'd prefer to have the Ayatollah Beheshti conduct the whole thing. He's more of a Christian than Diarmuid Martin anyway. At least he's never tried under false pretences to hound a generation of Bishops from office by mendaciously, maliciously and malignly labelling them concealers of child abuse."