Thursday, March 17, 2011

Choosing My Religion

“Grampa, I’m going to start my own religion.” The young boy said as he sat upon the older man’s lap.

“Oh?” The man said as he spoke over the cup of coffee held by his liver spotted hands. “Aren’t you kind of young to begin a religion, Thomas?”

“Oh no grampa, I’m five already, Jesus started when he was born, by my age he was a pro!”

The boy’s smile was contagious, and the remark caused his grandfather to chuckle.
“Ok, what will you teach.”

“Ice cream!”

“Ice cream?”

“Yeah, you know how we eat that cracker thing and drink the grape juice. Mine’s going to be ice cream!”

Another smile crossed the face of the older man. “Really, what else?” He bade his grandson to continue.

“Well, I don’t really like getting up early and going to church.”

“Wait, you don’t? Then why start a religion?”

“Grampa, can I finish? I don’t like getting up early so church won’t start until seven or eight at night, because I do like to stay up past my bedtime.”

The last smile still had not disappeared from his face, but Grampa continued to beam. “What will you teach?”

“Oh, you know, no cussin’ or fightin’. Definitely no killing. And no stealing… unless you’re playing baseball.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point. Anything else?”

“Well, yeah I was thinking I would ban brussels sprouts, but mom really likes them, so I probably won’t do that.”

“Ok, what if you do one of those things, like stealing?”

“Mom will come and talk to you, and then you get to sit in time out.”

“Really, you think that will work?” Grampa asked, a frown upon his face.

“Oh yeah, mom can be really angry sometimes, and her face gets all red, and then she’s yelling at me.”

The smile returned to the creased face, “But what about murder? That’s far worse than stealing!”

“Oh, you get to talk to my dad, and then your grounded.”

“Sounds pretty serious.”

“It is! I wasn’t able to watch TV at all last week!”

“Did you kill somebody?”

“Grampa! No, I lied.”

“About what!”

“Oh, I said Dexter must have eaten the whole cake.”

“Who’s Dexter?”

“My imaginary friend, he’s right over there!” The boy’s voice rose in excitement as he pointed to the recliner near the fireplace. “Would you like to meet him?”

“What about your Religion?”

“Oh, that can wait. Hey Dexter, come over here!”

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