Playing God

Luke attends Catholic school, and despite my efforts to keep his mind from being warped by the Papists he really likes it. Right now he is obsessed with what words are "good" or "naughty," and he loves to play a game where he names an object and I say if it was made by God or a person. Buildings? People. Cows? God. Hostess Fruit Pies? Both. I think you get the picture.

Yesterday I was out at my friend Jamie's house so Luke could play with her 3-year old daughter Mary and 2 year old son Drew. They retired to the basement where there are a million toys while Jamie and I sat upstairs visiting. About 30 minutes after the three of them disappeared the basement got quiet -- too quiet. I went to the top of the stairs and yelled to Luke "what are you doing?"
"Playing," was his response.
"What are you playing," I yelled back.
"God," he said.
"What?" My response was automatic. I had to have heard wrong.
"God," he said.

I looked around to make sure all of the pets were safe and accounted for and headed downstairs to see exactly how "God" is played. When I go the basement I found Luke and Mary standing on either side of a large Tupperware container containing Drew. "I'm Joseph, she's Mary and Drew is Jesus," Luke explained. Oh. That was good enough for me, after all, no one was bleeding or crying, and so I went back upstairs. Jamie, of course, asked me what exactly the game "God" entailed, and I told her how it was basically playing nativity. I said Luke must have picked it up at school. "Great," Jamie replied "but when he learns about the crucification will you let me know before you bring him over?"

I hate it when my friends are funnier than I am.