I miss my blogging. Since I decided I want to become an author for real, I do less writing than ever. It is sad, because I really enjoy it. I think I have cut off my writing mullet in the back. Too much business in the front and not enough party in the back. I want to write something just for fun for me. And I didn't even do the punctuation correctly.
The Story of Baby Cheezus.
Long ago near the December holiday of love, my grandson and I shared the very beautiful story of the birth of our Lord, known to others as the Story of Baby Jesus. Since Cash was enrolled in a Christian preschool at the time, I thought I would prep him with the basic storyline before the holiday season began. It went something like this...
(Note: I remember some of this from all those bathrobe pageants I was in church during my younger years and from the book, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever."
Long ago there was a woman named Mary and an angel of the Lord appeared to her and told her she would give birth to a baby and name him Jesus.
From the back of the van, "Cheezus. I love Baby Cheezus." Veronica, "No, Cash it is Baby Jesus not Cheezus."
Cash especially enjoyed Baby Bell little round cheeses. It is sacrilegious to say, but he truly was much more likely to see cheese as his Savior at age two.
Cash, "I know."
And it came to pass that Mary and her husband Joseph traveled to Bethlehem, but there was no room for them at the inn. So they had to sleep in the stable with all of the animals. (Pause for listing of and sounds made by all animals in the stable.)
And Mary gave birth to a baby and she laid him in the manager. They named him Jesus.
From Cash, "Cheezus? I love Baby Cheezus!"
Veronica, "No Cash, Jesus. They named the baby JESUS!"
Cash, "I know Sissy! Cheezus! I love Baby Cheezus."
No, Cash! JESUS. They named him JE-SUS!
Shut up, Sissy!
Veronica, "GRANDMA!"
However Grandma was too busy trying not to wreck the van because she couldn't see the road because of the tears running down her cheeks from silently laughing.
The Epilogue
A couple of weeks later Cash had made a picture of Baby Jesus at preschool. I asked him who the baby was and he replied. Jesus. Not Cheezus? I asked. Noooo was his indignant reply. And then he gave me a look, like I was the crazy one for asking.
So for most of us Jesus is the Reason for the Season. Cash-Well, you know what his sweatshirt would say.
