The Christmas Village Story
I asked the Minis if they would please build a Lego Christmas village for the mantle. They were very excited about this project and worked all day and set them out while Mike and I cooked and cleaned the house before our guests arrived.
Jen was the first to notice, because she is awesome that way and notices everything. Seriously. She is über detail-oriented.
“Laine, have you looked at the Lego scenes on your mantle?”
“Um, sort of. I asked the girls to build me a Christmas village. Aren’t they cute?”
“I think one of them is depicting some kind of pagan ritual.”
Jen’s academic specialty is in literature of indigenous peoples, so if anyone knows pagan rituals, it’s her.
“Hmm? Let’s take a look.”
“Oh, cute. They’re having dinner. With Darth Vader. Of course.”
“Actually, I meant the guy with the goat head who seems to be preaching a sermon?”
“Oh, I guess he could be delivering the Christmas message.” (Might I add that the Pope also wears pretty significant headgear? Although, Goathead Preacher does seem to be wearing just a green loincloth.))
“And there’s a row of children, all dressed alike in green suits and black hair.”
[weakly] “Did you notice there’s a horse right outside this house? Haha! Isn’t that sweet! Ha. Haha.”
“It’s just a little disturbing, that’s all.”
“Can I refill your wine glass? Please? There’s also Vodka.”
Jen’s interest, of course was purely academic, and not any kind of judgment on my aesthetic or spiritual condition. And as my term as chair of the Church Education committee ends officially tomorrow there’s no danger of being impeached for my children’s lack of reverence in the creation of holiday dioramas. Remember I am also the parent who allowed the Blue Baby Jesus. In fact, now that we’re no longer Baptists but members of The Church of “It’s All Good,” maybe I’ll even be asked to recreate the Lego dioramas for our next Diversity campaign. The possibilities are endless.