Recently, my son had a sleepover with his cousin, Paisley. As Paisley was getting ready to climb into bed, she stopped to say her nightly prayers. While she conversed with her maker, my son walked into the room. He was confused. This was a sight foreign to him.
In our house, we liken religion unto Star Wars. There are good guys and there are bad guys. We want to be the good guys because they get to fly the Millennium Falcon.
So when Everett heard Paisley talking, he became concerned. "Who's she talking to?" he yelled and began dancing around trying to get a better look, "Is someone in there?" He busted into the room, ready to take down the intruder.
Not knowing how this all fit into our Star Wars scenario, I began looking for my stash of tiny pink umbrellas. If I couldn't have my margarita, at least I could decorate the house as if I had.
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