Oh, Kiddo. Where to even start with this one.
A few weeks ago we were listening to Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me – a radio quiz show. One of the questions was if it was true that someone could date the various versions of the Last Supper painting by using food clues.
But, while we were listening to the podcast, I looked in the rearview mirror – you were confused.
Right. You haven’t been in church, read the stories, or know *anything* about the big guy. So, I did what I do best. Overexplain something I definitely did not understand.
“Well, Kiddo, The Last Supper is a really famous painting showing 12 dudes on one side of a really long table – which, odd seating choice – and the guy in the middle is Jesus. The rest of them are his friends. Actually, 11 are his friends. One guy was only pretending to be his friend so he could be famous in the painting.”
Nothing gets by you – observance is one of your most consistent qualities. This is great, because if you weren’t, the rest of this exchange, my new favorite exchange, never would have happened.
“Mom? Why was it called The Last Supper? Was he going somewhere?”
“Um…*snicker*, yes. Kind of.”
Realizing I’m completely out of my depth and not remembering this chapter in Agnostic Parenting 101, I explained as quickly as I could of the New Testament.
At least the last bits.
The parts I remember.
The highlights.
Now, keep in mind I have not touched the Bible in 2 decades. The last book I finished I couldn’t tell you the side characters’ names – and I finished that book last night. My memory is not *great* and I’m trying to recall, process, and regurgitate to a kid who has no foundation in religion about this thing that spans everything including pop culture (remember, this started with a radio quiz).
All while I was operating a vehicle.
And I’m still definitely laughing at, “Was he going somewhere?”
So I’m sure whatever I spit out was SUPER accurate.
“Well, Kiddo, yeah. He kinda went somewhere. So, some people believe Jesus was killed after this supper. After he died, they shoved him in a cave, and three days later he came out of the cave—“
“Oh, Zombie Jesus. We covered that, Mom, for Good Friday.”
Indeed we did.
“Yes, Zombie Jesus. Then in some religions, people believe he went to the sky and one day he’ll return and take all the people who believe in him up to Heaven where their spirits can live forever.”
The silence was a bit unnerving as you were processing this at 60mph. A road I’m pretty sure was only 45 but I just REALLY wanted to get home at this point. I’ll put it out there, Kiddo – you’ve never asked Dad about Zombie Jesus, or any Jesus, or the republican party, or any of “the big ones.” Please remember this in future therapy sessions. You did this to you – you asked ME for these answers, the least qualified parent and I definitely did my best.
Or, I did my not-worst.
Kiddo, I need you to know that at this moment, I had convinced myself that I fully nailed this parenting thing.
Pun not intended.
“Mom?”
I looked in the rearview. You looked white as a sheet and a little panicked. You didn’t so much speak as quiver –
“I don’t want to get in the van with Free Candy Jesus!”
So, I’m still operating a vehicle and did not go off the road when you spouted that out of your face. And for that, and for your future therapist, I need to get all the credit in the world for being a good mom.
Though, the shirt or stickers I will definitely make out of this image, the exact image I was imagining the *INSTANT* you conflated stranger danger, the time your friend Riker hilariously got into a van with free candy – much to the chagrin of the adults who all grew up in the 80s watching in utter fascination and horror, it’s ok, he’s fine- and the Book of Revelations – A BOOK YOU HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE ABOUT, may factor into a less-than-good mom status.
And, to my knowledge, you have watched exactly ZERO episodes of Forensic Files, so how you know this is a *thing* – how candy vans were a real touchstone of a particular period of the 1980’s yet you don’t know who Jesus Christ is, does speak to the kind of parenting you’ve received to date.
My bad. Or, you’re welcome. Tell me later.
But, I’m down with not getting in any vans promising free candy, especially if the driver is a man wearing a sheet, looking like he tried to start a cult at Coachella. Even if it’s Jesus taking the wheel, do not get in that van. If your future Uber Driver turns around and offers so much as a breath mint, just walk home. Do not take candy from men you just met who are operating a vehicle.
Also, will Uber still be a thing when you stumble onto this when you’re…..thirty? Hopefully thirty? I have no idea, we’ll see how well this ages.
If that makes me a not-the-worst mom instead of a good one, I’ll take it 🙂
Now, let’s go get some Snickers and call your Auntie Sip about all the times these stories start with a Wait Wait episode. She’ll appreciate it.
Love,
Mom. (Your dad DEFINITELY hasn’t seen this yet 🙂 )
Letters To Little 