I gave birth to Charlie Brown.
Anyhow, my point was rather on the very large brain that I hope resides in that very roomy skull. And, with it, at the ripe old age of 6, Lefty is quickly learning to out-think me. Making counterarguments that are both logical and oddly compelling. And irritate the hell out of me, because, hello, I. Am not. Supposed. To lose. A debate. With my 6-year old. The fact that I see it as a debate (rather than a NON-debate) furthers that irritation. He's Clarence Darrow in feety-pajamas. And I am now forced to walk around my house carrying a turtleneck, just in case.
"Why do you use water?" "Did Jesus use water?" "Because it was like washing away sins?" "But he didn't hafta use water right?"
I knew it was coming. The clincher. The logic that defies expectation, that you never saw coming. The non-debate debate that leaves you dumbstruck and wishing for a turtleneck. I wanted to rescue our minister before the web Lefty weaved had caught him. But if he got trapped, that meant I wasn't a complete idiot all by myself. That I'd have idiot company.
Welcome to the club, padre, here it comes: "Well, he could cure people when they touched him right? Why did he need water? He was holy. He could just spit on them. Holy spit."
Which was almost exactly what I was thinking the instant he said it. Almost.
And Clarence Darrow left the room.
Our sweet, kind, bespectacled minister looked over at me. I shrugged my shoulders. He's totally not going to join my club.
And, I'm pretty sure there's a turtleneck in someone's future.
(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. - 2009