Jesus 101

While Hilton's been out of town, the boys and I have been staying with Mom and Dad for the past few days. And during our stay, Mom has learned this truth regarding the boys and future presents for them stashed away in the house: unless it is hidden in a deep, dark corner or under lock and key, nothing is safe from them. Nothing. They practically have a radar for these sorts of things, and all they have to catch is a slight glimpse of the brightly-colored packaging of a child's toy, and it's all over.

So I've had to explain to them that yes, those are their toys, but we have to wait until Christmas to open them.

Christmas. Ah, yes, Christmas. Somehow I'd forgotten they are now at the age where they can comprehend things just enough to get myself stuck in conversations where there is no logical or good way out of it. Ben is the master of such conversations. Here's an example:

"What's what?"

"It's the sky, Ben."

"What you do with sky?"

I know it's mean, but I used to think he had the dumbest questions. Questions that made no sense whatsoever. But now I realize, he's just methodically following his ultimate plan to drive me insane.

But anyway, the Christmas presents..... to the boys, presents equal birthdays, and for the first time, they wanted to know just exactly whose birthday was on Christmas.

"Christmas is Jesus's birthday," I blurted out, never fathoming the consquences that would immediately be unleashed upon me with this innocent statement. We say our prayers to Jesus, read books about Jesus, sing songs about Jesus, go to church.... but as far as making any connections about him having a birthday that equaled presents for everybody.... we hadn't gotten that far yet (and to be honest, it's not really how I planned their first real idea of Jesus).

The following are just snippets of the verbal onslaught that ensued (all kids' dialogue should be read while imagining very loud and excited toddler voices).

After a brief, stunned silence, the first question came, not surprisingly, from Ben.

"Where did Jesus go?"

Well, that's a good one, I thought to myself. Here I am, all alone, and I have to answer this question of all questions.

"Well.... he's in heaven now," I stammered. "He's watching over you. But once he was a little baby, born in a barn. Remember the story we read? That was Jesus's birthday." There. I was shaken but glad that was over with.

"Jesus is a little baby," Ben proclaimed.

"No, Jesus used to be a little baby. Then he grew up to be a man, and now he's in heaven watching over you and Jake." The whole crucifixtion and resurrection concept was probably a little bit over their heads, I decided.

"No, he's a cute little baby," Ben retorted.

"Mommy, Jesus keep Ben and Jake safe from the sharks?" inquired Jake.


More Jesus drama followed upstairs after bathtime.

"Is Jesus downstairs?" asked Guess Who.

"No, Ben, he's in heaven, watching over you.

"Jesus in his house?"

My mind thought fast. Too fast.

"Well, Jesus's house is the church. All the churches are Jesus's houses."

That rocked his world for about two seconds. Then it was on again.

"Jesus has toys at his house? We play with them?"

And for the grand finale, this from Ben up in the loft, watching me downstairs getting their bedtime snack ready:

"Mommy, you go with Jesus!"

"Excuse me?"

"You go with Jesus! You go to my new house. You need some gloves to hop over the hills!" he ordered, hopping up and down for emphasis and gazing out the window into the woods.


At least he didn't tell me the other place to go.