The other day I was going through the mail and I found an old invitation that was shoved in a magazine for a 1st communion that I totally missed. And it was for my godson, who I clearly am not in great contact with because I didn’t even realize he was getting ready for first communion.
So he’s either going to be a serial killer or a huge success, but either way it’s all because of my lack of influence on him.
And I was telling my friend about it and I’m like, “I have no idea what the gift protocol is here. Is there a “Sorry I am completely disconnected from your existence but congratulations on your Holy Communion gift?” and he goes, “I think I got a small statue of Jesus.”
Which made me ask, “Why do they make Jesus statues? What if Jesus looked nothing like the statues?”
H: I’ll ask my mom.
Me: She’ll know why they make Jesus statues? I so like her. This is a question that’s been haunting me for total minutes.
H: No, I’ll ask her what you should do about a gift.
Me: Great. Now your mom knows I’m the kind of person who flakes on things like appointments, laundry and the existence of entire human beings. Which is all true, but I suspect it’s not what “normal” people do. But also, I’m terribly disappointed that I won’t know what the statue thing is all about. Because, you know, Jesus could have looked like a chia pet.
You know how tigers weren’t tigers in the ice age? They were saber-toothed tigers? All shaggy hair and big teeth. And elephants weren’t elephants they were wooly mammoths?
I’m pretty sure that Jesus was Bigfoot.
Which also answers that question I’ve had for years about Jesus and the constant feet washing thing.
You probably shouldn’t tell your mom that I think Jesus was bigfoot.
He’s probably the Yeti too. Like, if I were Jesus, I’d totally summer in the Antarctic. Plus, no one has ever seen the Yeti and Bigfoot together and so that can only mean one thing.
Him: Ummmm, ok.
Which of COURSE he didn’t know what to say. He was totally probably in awe of my problem solving skills.
My friend says that “problem solving skills” doesn’t mean “really insane and offensive theory about the son of God” but I think he’s still just processing this turn of events.
This is actually why I am an amazing Godparent.
And I suspect he totally told his mom about my theory because a few days later she made banana pudding and didn’t send me any.
I still want banana pudding.