Good Tidings

"I have a question," my youngest said.

"No, I don't know why I thought having children was a good idea," I said.

"Shut up," he said. "That wasn't my question."

"Yeah, well, it's my question," I said.

"Shut up," he said again. "I have a real question."

"Fine, what is it?"

"Would you rather be Adrian Peterson or Jesus?"

"What?" I asked.

"Would you rather be the Vikings running back or Jesus?"

"Are you on drugs?" I asked him.

"I drank some weed at school last week," he said.

"That would explain a lot," said his oldest brother, home from college for the holiday break.

"I wish I had some weed to drink," I muttered.

"What is your father going on about now?" asked the Lovely Bride as she came into the room.

"He's wishing for drugs," said my middle son.

"Strychnine would be a good choice," she suggested.

"He asked me if I'd rather be Adrian Peterson or Jesus," I told her.

"That's...unusual," she said.

"So, what's your answer?" the youngest demanded.

"A.P.," said the middle one.

"But he gets tackled every week," the youngest said.

"Better than getting crucified," said the middle kid.

"But then you get to live forever," said the youngest.

"Fairy tale," said the middle one.

"I should have stayed in Miami," said the oldest.

"Merry Christmas to us all," I said.

"We don't celebrate Christmas," said the middle boy. "You're too cheap."

"It's not because I'm cheap. Besides, you're the one who's always going on about being an atheist," I reminded him.

"I believe in presents," he replied.

"Good," I said. "When you go away to college you can join a cargo cult."

"I'll put you down for Adrian Peterson," said the youngest. Then he quacked a couple of times.

"Do you want a drink as much as I do?" I asked the Lovely Bride.

"I'm going to bed," she said.

"And to all a good night," I said.