My brother was out of town yesterday so I picked up his four-year-old twins from daycare. I knew it was going to be a good night when I walked in and Hannah started jumping up and down and told her teacher, “That’s my aunt Sarah, she’s a total rockstar.”
As per usual, the ride home consisted of Jesus talk. These kids are just as obsessed with him as I am. So much for the Jesus talk dying (Puntastic, no?) down after Easter.
“Aunt Sarah, we have to take a different road home.”
“Because Jesus brought a big, yellow pipe and left it on our street.”
“Um… why would Jesus leave a pipe in your street?”
“Aunt Sarah, the road is broken. Some big tractors came and dug it up, and then Jesus left a big, yellow pipe to fix it with.”
“Did this Jesus guy have a hard hat on?”
“Buddy, I’m pretty sure that was a construction worker, not Jesus.”
“NOOO, it was Jesus… I just know it.”
“Seriously, buddy, I know for a fact Jesus is not a construction worker. Grandma told me he was a carpenter.”
Silence. Oh heavenly silence.
And then… in an amazed tone he asks, “Grandma knows Jesus?!”
I wanted to tell him that his grandma is obsessed with Jesus. And not in the fun/blasphemous way I am, but in the “Jesus is the Savior” kind of way. I’ll let him figure that one out on his own.