I wrote this April 18, 2005, mostly for myself.

Franny and the baby and I were cruising down I-5, listening to Atmosphere, which always raises some interesting questions from the backseat.

“Mom, what’s God?”

Shit. I guess I knew abstract concept day was coming, but I wasn’t prepared yet. I have discovered that four is all about her asking me about abstract things, and me stammering like a fool.

“Umm…well….” I said, casting around. “Some people think God is like a person who created the universe and animals and people, and lives in Heaven. Other people think God is in everything, like in every person and blade of grass.”

“And trees, Mom?”

“Yep, every thing. Some people get so worked up about God that they fight in wars. Other people don’t believe in God at all.” I decided to give her something else to consider: “Remember that book we read about Greek myths? Those people believed there were many gods, like Hera and Zeus and Hades. Most people now just believe in one.”

Franny turned this over for a moment.

“There are six gods, Mom,” she said, decisively.

“Six? Who are they?”

“There’s Ashley. There’s Building. He works in a building. There’s Flower. She watches all the flowers. When the bad guys come she turns herself into a bird egg.”

“Why does she do that?” I said.

“She turns herself into a huge egg and rolls over the bad guys. There’s Post, and Chimney. She lives in a building with lots of chimneys.”

“I see,” I said. You have to say this a lot when you have a four-year-old. “What does Ashley do?”

“Ashley’s the boss.”

I found out later what Post does; she wears many pins in her hair that she uses to “fix up people who get their arms slashed in wars.” However, I don’t know who the sixth god is, because she went on to something else. So, lo, another dogma is unleashed upon the world. If I asked her, Franny would now want everyone to go forth and be fruitful or something, because she really likes fruit, “especially watermelon.”