I just decorated the Christmas tree with R today–my back was giving me shit for a week–and then I turned on the news. And started bawling. Very schizophrenic. But I won’t say anything about the shooting. Everything has already been said. Over and over and over, for years.
So here’s a funnier example of schizophrenia, the type of thing you get when an atheist and a believer in God get married and have children.
If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you know that I’m an atheist. T was brought up Episcopalian, but he doesn’t believe in organized religion anymore. He does believe in God and thinks we’ll go to heaven when we die. I think he’s setting himself up for disappointment, but oh well.
When R was about five, she was beginning to ask about death. T told her his version: that we go to heaven and hang out there forever and a good time is had by all. I told her that I believe that dead is dead, and that that’s why it’s important to make the most of life.
At the same time her older brother B was fascinated with the idea that not only the dinosaurs went extinct, but that we will be extinct at some point, as well. R was not happy about that.
So she created her own narrative: Santa lives forever, so she would simply marry Santa when she grew up. That would make her immortal as well. Then, when humans became extinct, she and Santa would have a million Santa babies, and thus repopulate the earth with lots of little immortals, all dressed in red and white.
Ho Ho Ho. Beat that, Jesus!