Days Like This, I Almost Believe in God

Chill, peeps. It’s from the musical Falsettos. I pretty much always believe in God. I just get super annoyed with Him a LOT of the time. In fact, if I were going to have a conversation with Him, it would probably go something like this…

WG: Dude. WTF?

Almighty God: Um, excuse me?

WG: What, is your omniscience not working today? I’m asking you what the HELL you were thinking, messing up my kid’s DNA. Who exactly do you think you’re dealing with here?

AG: Look, it doesn’t really work like that—

WG: Not interested. Little busy here, what with schlepping my 82-pound 4-year-old up the stairs.

AG: Eighty-two pounds? Are you sure that’s right?

WG: Am I sure? AM I SURE? Are you God or WHAT?

Anyway. TOTALLY not the point. Moving on. We have had some Good Days around here, a fact I am almost loathe to share, because posting it on the Interweb is like ASKING for a barrage of CRAP DAYS FROM HELL.

AG: Um, I told you, that’s really not how it works. It’s not like I’m specifically targeting people—

WG: God. SHUT UP. Not everything is about you.

AG: THAT’S WHAT I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU.

WG: Could you maybe get your own blog? Jim Carrey had that whole Yahweh! site in Bruce Almighty. Couldn’t you maybe go register BloGOD, or something?

But back to me. Because, despite what God may think, it is all about me. So. Of late, my son has been wowing people left and right with his language skills. And not only is he saying things like, “Ow! [AnotherKid] hurt my arm!” and then when the kid was prompted to apologize and did so in a mumbled undertone, D. followed up with, “I didn’t hear you” – not only that, but my kid has been walking around saying full sentences IN HEBREW. And then translating them to English in case you didn’t understand.

My kid kicks ass.

I’m still heartbroken over the fact that I likely won’t get to the Sotos conference this year. I debated passing around a virtual hat at the end of my routine one evening, but then I realized that all the virtual money would be, you know, virtual. Since my readership probably hovers somewhere around… seven. We even gave God the chance to give us money by buying a lottery ticket. Two tickets actually. And lo and behold, we did not win, although the girls were convinced we were going to win and move to Israel.

What do you have to say about that, God?

AG: Listen – you know what? Never mind. You’re going to hell anyway.

WG: Oh, whatever.