So, tonight we went out to dinner to celebrate my sister-in-law’s birthday. We brought the boys since they only have a half-day of school tomorrow and don’t often get to join the parties. Both were in a mood, despite being aloud to wear pajamas to school today and watching a movie during the day.
The moods were inspired by a) it wasn’t a “brand new” movie, but stupid old ‘Polar Express.’ b) we had to miss math class to watch the stupid movie, c) there wasn’t enough room in the class where the movie so M didn’t get to see it and got to watch “better movies,” and d) M then lost the superball we found at after-care. I remember thinking that watching a movie at school was pretty good, missing math was better and I would think wearing pajamas to school would also be pretty nice. At any rate, we were in a snit.
We progressed through dinner fairly well. C was content with food, M thought his fruit cup had too many lemons and that his grilled cheese was “too gooey,” but his mood was lifting. The moment of truth came when M suddenly turned to K and I and announced, “I think I know something about getting into heaven!” Well, how can you not stop to listen to that announcement?
So, we gave him our full attention. “So,” he began, “you have to die and go to heaven, right? And then, you have to be good the whole time you’re there. And all that good? It squishes you down until you’re really short!” He paused here for dramatic effect. “And then you’re short enough to become and elf and work for Santa!”
He was quite content with his announcement and went back to eating, leaving us all to ponder this revelation. So, now you know and suddenly, that elf on the shelf looks even more creepy than before, squished down by the goodness of heaven…