Monday, January 14, 2008
It's My Fault
I was recently driving my oldest son, Chase, to guitar lessons when I glanced in the rear view mirror and noticed that he was reading. He is required to read a certain number of minutes each day for his third grade class, and apparently picked up his Kid's Study Bible previously left in my car. (Random items can often be found in almost every crook and cranny of the hunk of motoring metal I use as a vehicle/closet/infirmary/pantry/office/hiding place.) I was pleased not only at the text my son had chosen to read, but also that he was wisely using his time in the car to complete school work. However, it did mean that I would miss out on typical "car conversations" that take place with Chase. These are examples of past contemplations of his:
"So what do you think would happen if this YooHoo that I am drinking accidentally fell out of my hand, out the window, and into the mouth of a deer?"
"What if I stuck this jellybean up my nose and it came out my eyeball?"
"If God has super hero powers then why do we need Batman, Spiderman and Superman?"
So, we're riding along peacefully, when suddenly Chase blurted out , "I KNEW IT WAS YOUR FAULT!" Immediately, I was snatched back from my daydream where I was negotiating the future football scholarship Georgia Coach Mark Richt was offering to my child. (He also included a place for me to live on campus so I can be with my baby as much as possible and my own personal headset to use during the games in case I have some advice to offer the coaching staff.)
Upon re-entering the land of the real, I asked Chase to elaborate on his puzzling outburst and he responded, "Well, I was reading the story of Adam and Eve in Genesis, and they're hanging out and talking to all the animals and then Eve convinces Adam to eat the forbidden apple.So God gets mad and throws them out of the Garden of Eden. So it's your fault I can't talk to animals."
There you have it. Young boys everywhere cannot talk to the creatures of the land and of the sea and it is my fault. I think I prefer the conversations surrounding items up his nose. Boys are a joy.