Jesus and the Bunnies
Today my son asked me why the sun was getting lower each morning as we got on the freeway. (We get on at the same time every day – five minutes late.)
In return, he was treated to a long story that started with the tilt of the Earth and ended with the Christian assimilation of pagan holidays.
“Yes, the sun is lower today, son,” I concluded. “And that is why children celebrate the resurrection of Christ with baskets of eggs. And, in the future, if the winter solstice evolves into nothing more than rituals involving credit cards that worship some corporation, then, well, that’s apparently just human nature.”
“Mom, is any of that really true?” my child asked.
“Yes,” I said, but in a distant voice. Suddenly, I realized that I was evolving into my dad. No one but my dad could answer a question about math homework with an hour-long monologue on the Druids and the price of gasoline. No one else… until me. My gosh – I had become that which used to bore me.
But, then, I stopped thinking about that, too, because I was distracted by fascinating musings on Santa Claus and his future incarnations.
And, somewhere, my dad laughed.
And, somewhere in my car, a child sighed and turned his thoughts to video games.
