"Wouldn't it be something," Caleb says over dinner, "if my birthday was every day?"
"It'll feel like it soon enough," I grumble.
"Well," says his mother in her exquisitely motherly way, "having your birthday once a year is what makes it so special."
Caleb chews on his salad and thinks about this. "If I only had to make my bed once a year, it still wouldn't be fun, because it's a chore."
"I was wondering if he'd figure that out," the wife mutters to me.
Like Caleb, I also began immediately to poke for holes in the wife's logic. "What if," I ask her, "it's not the case that having birthdays once a year makes them special? Maybe you have the causality reversed. What if we only get them once a year because they are special?"
"You have a very cynical view of God," she replies, shaking her head.
Somebody has to ask these questions, you know. Apparently it's up to me and Caleb.
Posted by Woodlief on February 27, 2007 at 08:34 AM