Housework, if you do it right, will kill you.
Erma Bombeck
|
Take one retainer, a rock, enough buttons to open a quaint little button shop, remote controls for electronics no longer controllable, keys, seed packets, pen caps, postage stamps from Spain, Chuck E. Cheese tokens, dull pencil sharpeners, old batteries, crumbling rubber bands, business cards, broken digital thermometers, pacifiers, an old plastic baby hair comb, bobby pins, bent safety pins, Chapstick, Barbie shoes, barrettes, crayon wrappers, twist ties, a rubber dinosaur pencil topper, a rusty whistle, heart-shaped Post-It Notes, a lone mitten, a votive candle, a coupon for a free small ice cream cone from Dairy Queen (expired), a nametag, a key-chain flashlight, a postcard from Scotland with sheep grazing on a hillside, a knight from a knightless chess set, a bubble wand, one crocheted baby bootie, baby emery boards for baby French manicures, shoelaces, an angel figurine with one missing wing, an opened sample pack of Johnson’s absorbent nursing pads, dice, medicine droppers, yellowed comic strips cut from the newspaper because they seemed funny at the time, and eight Mr. Incredibles.
Mix with one Hefty bag. Discard. I am trying to wrap my head around these figurines. I understand they represent the idea that Jesus is with our kids as they participate in sports and recreation. I just don’t understand why he has to wear his robe and sandals while skiing. Is it so when visitors see the figurine of Jesus doing gymnastics perched a family’s fireplace mantle they understand that it is Him and not some random bearded man? Aidan went through a phase as a young toddler when she would scream “Jesus!” and point at any man with longish hair and a beard. She understood something important, though. Jesus, who exists outside our human understanding of time and space, is not confined to our human ideas of how he looks and should be dressing. If Jesus went to Powderhorn to ski, he would not wear a robe and sandals. He would stop at REI and get a powder jacket, pants, boots, bindings, skis, goggles or sunglasses, and a helmet. If he played football with my boys in the backyard, he would have shoes on. He would know our dog has been out there and sometimes we miss, uh, her efforts at fertilization. I don’t think it is sacreligious or blasphemous to contemplate Where Would Jesus Ski?* We ask ourselves every day What Would Jesus Do, and even What Would Jesus Blog? |
||
|
Copyright © 2024 Lifenut - All Rights Reserved Powered by WordPress & Atahualpa |
||
