We’re having Christmas lunch and the little cousin is talking about teachers at his school, and how some of them are awful, and some of them are nice. He shares a story about his Religious Education teacher, who told his class that Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy aren’t real.
“Um,” I say. “Really? Does your Religious Education teacher believe that God is real?”
Little cousin throws back his head and laughs. “Of course!”
He twigs to my implication, and has a question of his own. “What do you believe in?”
“Not even reincarnation? Do you think we just rot and get mouldy?”
“Yep,” I say. “We might be here for, say, 80 years, if we’re lucky. And we can try to have fun. Then we die, that’s it. We only have a short time.”
He thinks about this, and says, “So you’re not a Christian?”
He looks very, very serious, and speaks very slowly: “Step… away… from… the Christmas… table… Please.”