Fear of God
When I was a little kid and got hurt due to running around the house or goofing off as kids do, my parents would always say the same thing when I ran to them in tears:
"See, this is God's way of punishing you..."
To this very day, every time I have some sort of accident, my first thought, even through the shock of pain, is always - shit, what did I do to deserve this??
For example, the other day I was sneakily trying to take a peek at my new cat who has taken to hiding behind the couch. Quietly, careful not to startle him, I swung my head over the back, completely forgetting I have a monstrous room-dividing bookcase behind my couch as well, and BLAM - forehead to shelf. The cat ran as if it was his own personal 9/11 and I was left head in hand on the couch regretting laughing at the guy who tripped over the curb in front of Au Bon Pain last week.
Who's laughing now, God asked.
Certainly not me.
In any case, last Christmas my niece, Kay, four now, three then, took delight in my mother's nativity scene and in-particular the little Baby Jesus figurine. As she held him in her hand, marveling, I took the opportunity to use this beautiful moment as leverage, and comic value of course, by telling her:
"You know, every time you misbehave, the Baby Jesus cries ..."
Now, this may seem cruel to tell a child such a thing but you have to understand - Kay does not take anything I say to her seriously, even when I'm stone faced, anxiety-attack, swallow my tounge serious (i.e. on Sunday - "I SAID PUT THAT HAMMER DOWN NOW!!! REALLY!!! STOP LAUGHING AT ME!! I'M TELLING SANTA").
I gave up on being any type of disciplinarian with her years ago, it's just too much work not to give into every tiny little whim that she may have. I am only her Aunt after all and telling her no is what Mommies and Daddies and Nanas are for. But on the other hand, sometimes she wants to do things such as swing a hammer around or sled down the stairs in a cardboard box, that even I cannot condone, so that is when folks like Santa and Baby Jesus come in handy.
So anyhow, I commented about the Baby Jesus crying on Bink's Myspace today and got a renewed chuckle out of it so I had to share it with Amy. Amy in turn came up with the ultimate twist to the crying Baby Jesus:
Aunt to Child: Oh, it's raining, you know what that means....
Child: What??
Aunt: It means the Baby Jesus is crying in heaven, you must of done something real bad....
"See, this is God's way of punishing you..."
To this very day, every time I have some sort of accident, my first thought, even through the shock of pain, is always - shit, what did I do to deserve this??
For example, the other day I was sneakily trying to take a peek at my new cat who has taken to hiding behind the couch. Quietly, careful not to startle him, I swung my head over the back, completely forgetting I have a monstrous room-dividing bookcase behind my couch as well, and BLAM - forehead to shelf. The cat ran as if it was his own personal 9/11 and I was left head in hand on the couch regretting laughing at the guy who tripped over the curb in front of Au Bon Pain last week.
Who's laughing now, God asked.
Certainly not me.
In any case, last Christmas my niece, Kay, four now, three then, took delight in my mother's nativity scene and in-particular the little Baby Jesus figurine. As she held him in her hand, marveling, I took the opportunity to use this beautiful moment as leverage, and comic value of course, by telling her:
"You know, every time you misbehave, the Baby Jesus cries ..."
Now, this may seem cruel to tell a child such a thing but you have to understand - Kay does not take anything I say to her seriously, even when I'm stone faced, anxiety-attack, swallow my tounge serious (i.e. on Sunday - "I SAID PUT THAT HAMMER DOWN NOW!!! REALLY!!! STOP LAUGHING AT ME!! I'M TELLING SANTA").
I gave up on being any type of disciplinarian with her years ago, it's just too much work not to give into every tiny little whim that she may have. I am only her Aunt after all and telling her no is what Mommies and Daddies and Nanas are for. But on the other hand, sometimes she wants to do things such as swing a hammer around or sled down the stairs in a cardboard box, that even I cannot condone, so that is when folks like Santa and Baby Jesus come in handy.
So anyhow, I commented about the Baby Jesus crying on Bink's Myspace today and got a renewed chuckle out of it so I had to share it with Amy. Amy in turn came up with the ultimate twist to the crying Baby Jesus:
Aunt to Child: Oh, it's raining, you know what that means....
Child: What??
Aunt: It means the Baby Jesus is crying in heaven, you must of done something real bad....
Labels: Family
posted by Betty Blog at 1:13 PM
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