Suburbs of Our Discontent

As I've mentioned in earlier posts, I'm the heathen half of everydayshakespeare. Michelle can pose as Shylock looking to shame Jessica on Hanukkah because she is a very good, observant Jew. My children, when taken to the occasional First Communion or Christmas Eve service, complain about how they can't see the "show" because they have bad seats. No (I have to explain), this is not the North Shore Theater Company's "Christmas Carol"--it's a religious service.

This means that I have to do the Religious Education piece on my own, without the help of a knowledgeable, possibly ordained individual. Most of this happens in the car as I'm driving them to school and back. (This is also where the Sex Ed talks happen--see my posts on "Mom, how do you use a condor?" and "Sex can just be for fun, right?").

This year, my son seems to have taken a leap forward on the whole complex thinking thing, so his questions have gotten more difficult to answer. Now, instead of "Mom, who do you think is better, the Phillies or the Red Sox?" I'm starting to get questions like, "Who is God?" and "Why don't we go to church?" The other day, though, he asked me one that made me burst with proud instead of cringe: "Mom, who's older--Jesus or Shakespeare?"

Don't worry, I told him the right answer. But I like that he's learned that Shakespeare can be a guru too.