I don’t talk to my kids about religion much. But they do deal with it from time to time. Most of their friends go to church. My oldest daughter’s Art teacher even went into the story of Easter and Jesus’ resurrection at school last week. That’s probably not so bad assuming it was educational, but I have a sneaking suspicion it was more along the lines of proselytization.
The week before the “Art” lesson took place, my wife had already talked to my daughter about Easter.
Wife: “Sarah, do you know why we have Easter every year?”
Daughter: “No, not really.”
Wife: “Well, the Christians believe that a long time ago, Jesus died, and then he came back from the dead.”
Daughter: “With bunnies?”
Today, one of Sarah’s classmates came up to her and went into God out of the blue.
Girl: “God made you.”
Girl: “God. He created you.”
Daughter: “Um, no. I’m pretty sure my mom and dad created me.”
Girl: “Nuh uh!”
Daughter: “Well, how did God create me? How does that work?”
Girl: “He drew you on a piece of paper and then gave the paper to your mom.”
I guess they’ll be okay. I don’t really understand what I’m doing right, though.