My first day in Catholic school
involved Page 1 of the Baltimore catechism. First question: "Who made me?" First answer: "God made me."
Well, I knew that was bullshit. My mother had told me where babies come from when I was four, although she hadn't told me how they got there. Subsequent observation of her friends getting big tummies and then showing up with babies in their arms and their tummies suddenly smaller proved she'd given me the right story.
Reality had already set me up to be a rebel. I learned early on that Sister Mary Torquemada didn't like questions from precocious kids. However, my skepticism was obvious to all and I spent hours on my knees on marble floors until I'd had enough and told my parents that I was going to announce to the whole place I no longer believed in god.
That finally got me sprung and into public school. I was ten.