If one does not believe in God, one should probably think twice before sending one’s children to a synagogue preschool. Yes, they will learn all the cultural shit about Purim and Passover and Shabbat.
They will also come home talking about God. A lot.
The scene is bathtime. All three slippery little people are in the tub. Benjamin spies a speck of dust on the wall.
“Mommy, what that?”
“That black thing.”
Mommy inspects, sees nothing. “What black thing?”
“That black thing. That Lilah’s gina?”
“Um, no sweetie. Lilah’s v@gina is on her body. It is where your p-nis is on you.” I find it amazing, by the way, that he hasn’t brought this matter up before, as he’s been bathing with a baby girl for seven months.
“Why, Mommy?” Ben wants to know.
“What does Lilah have a v@gina?”
“Yep,” he nods conclusively.
“I know!” Zach pipes up. This could prove very interesting; there is a damned good chance I am about to hear about X and Y chromosomes from a preschooler. I wait. “Girls have v@ginas and boys have p-nises,” he explains to his brother, “because God decided to build them that way.”
Now, what the fuck? We don’t talk about God in the house, mostly because we subscribe to the whole lotta hooey school of religion. (And don’t go getting offended. I don’t think other people are dumb for believing it, just like I don’t think other people are dumb for liking blue cheese. It’s just not in my life.) I guess the preschool talks about God, but I am pretty sure they did not explain human genitalia theologically.
But, my curiosity has been aroused. He’s been bringing up God a lot in conversation as an explanation for things, and I want to know exactly what he thinks he is talking about. “Zach, who is God?”
“He’s someone who lived in Egypt. A long, long time ago.”
So, there you have it, folks. A long, long time ago in Egypt, a guy named God decided to give little girls v@ginas and little boys p-nises.