>If Only She’d Stuck with Unicorns
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“I thought of another way to play Nanny Ann Jones, Mommy,” four-year-old Punky said from the backseat as I drove home this afternoon from our monthly zoo class.
“Oh, wow,” I answered. Nanny Ann Jones is actually LEGO Indiana Jones for Xbox, which she plays with her dad, and with which she is completely obsessed.
“It’s just that if I go too close to the something monster, he may attack me and I’ll lose all my money,” she rambled on, “so I’ll something something and go over a bridge.”
“Uh huh,” I responded.
“It’s just that I don’t understand why frogs and toads are different,” she continued. “Frogs and toads look so much the same, Mommy, but Miss Max says they’re different. It just doesn’t make any sense,”
“You’re right,” I agreed, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel to the music.
“And then if princesses and unicorns are real, then I don’t understand why fairies aren’t. But I just know they aren’t, that’s all,” she went on.
“Yeah,” I agreed, wondering what I’d make for dinner.
“I really don’t like how you answer ‘yes,’ sometimes, Mommy,” Punky said. “It just makes me feel a little bit mean toward you.”
My attention snapped back to my daughter. I made eye contact with her in the rear view mirror. Unfortunately, I knew exactly what she was talking about. And I didn’t really have a good explanation.
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry. I need to have better answers.”
Punky nodded, satisfied, and sat back in her seat.
“Mommy?” she asked.
“Yes?” I smiled, eager to atone for my inattention.
“Does God have a Mommy and Daddy?”
Oh geez.
“No,” I said.
“But why?”
“God created mommies and daddies,” I said. “God created everything.”
“Is God a human?” Punky wanted to know.
“Uh, no,” I said, pausing for a moment. “God is, uh, this thing that is like, in charge of everything.”
I bit my lip. I just called God ‘this thing.’ My dad would be so disappointed. And I am now probably doomed to hell. Greeeeeeaaat.
How was your day?
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
