This afternoon Martin and I had a discussion about Christmas while we were in the car driving to the post office:

Martin: Momma, when is it going to snow?
Me: I don't know, maybe later in the week if we're lucky.
Martin: And then will Christmas Steve come?
Me: What's that?
Martin: Christmas Steve.  You know, when Santa comes.
Me: Yes, it will be Christmas EVE.
Martin:  And then the next day is Jesus' birthday?
Me: Yes, that's right
Martin: Will Jesus be at our house?
Me: No, honey he won't.
Martin: Where will he be?
Me: Well, honey, Jesus died.  We just celebrate his birthday.
Martin: How did he die?  Gross germs?
Me: No.
Martin: Did he fall down the stairs?
Me: No.  You know what, we should talk about this later.  It's kind of a long story.
Martin: Just tell me the short story then.  It's okay.

I couldn't figure out how to make that a short story.  We talked about it for awhile, trying to explain it all to him in a way that he might understand.  But for a guy who's idea of death includes what will happen to you if you don't wash your hands after going to the bathroom, it's quite a complicated story.  Especially when the whole thing is tied together by his idea that Jesus and Christmas Steve are coming over to have cake and a birthday party.

And after our discussion this morning about the Lists, Martin has been working hard to move up in the world.  He asked if he could vacuum the house (and even used attachments) and actually said "Mom, would you please excuse me for a moment?" when he had to use the bathroom (no Q-tips were used either).



On the table tonight: Juta (Bean and Pork Soup).  As my dad would say, it's going to be a three brick night.