I have scheduled a few posts to appear over the next few days because I was meant to be busy. I apologise for the fact that they are all religious (or irreligious). However, the plasterer I was meant to be working with is now two hours late, so I want to share a little story with you.
I was lying across a one-seater sofa in my room, reading a book with wrapped up Christmas presents at my feet when all of a sudden my dad walks in. No knocking; just walks in. My dad sees me and announces to my little brother “Hey, Little Child, Allallt* is reading a book in here. Come and ask him to read to you”. And then my dad potters off.
*These are our real names!
I was reading Mortality by Christopher Hitchens. If my little brother wasn’t so easily distracted by the thought of laser guns I would have had to have an awkward conversation with a seven-year-old about death. Here is how my game of misdirection went:
“What are you reading?”
A serious book for big people. I don’t think little children will like it. Do you think there will be laser guns in the future?
“Yes!” *pew pew*
What about money? Do you think there will be money in the future? (My thinking was that my question about laser guns hadn’t distracted him enough to get him to run out pretending to have a gun. So I thought I could bore him into leaving with a deep political and economic question.)
“Yes. Of course we will. That’s a silly question.”
(Oh dear, he seems interested in this. I won’t able to get him to leave) Why will we have money in the future?
“Because there will always be bad people”
(I said to myself “Don’t challenge the logic! He’s 7”) Why will there always be bad people in the world?
“Because we’re going to get laser guns!”
(I remembered that this point that I am his brother, not his dad) Get out.