Potato Head Provider

The emperor is still ruling the kingdom with a chubby iron fist.

Three days ago he learned the phrase “In a second.”

Now, if asked to do anything, even if he is standing aimlessly in the middle of the room doing nothing, the guaranteed response?

In a second, mom.

When asked for information, he has also begun tapping his chin and “hmmm”ing a lot.  As if he is contemplating years of philosophical readings.

It’s cute. Except for when you’re waiting for ten minutes while he searches the valleys of his mind for the answer to “Do you want me to make you a grilled cheese sandwich?”

In other news, he has finally developed some concept of what church is.

Though, theologically, it is a *tad* spiritually weak.

I first began picking up on this while driving downtown mid-week. Our car just happened to pass the YMCA where our church meets.

As soon as the giant Red “Y” sign came in  sight, Justus, in the back seat, began yelling clear as day “Church, Tatoman! Church, Tatoman!”

The church nursery, where Justus attends, is the kids playland at the YMCA. It’s stocked with bins of toys. There’s a tupperware storage bin full of baby dolls and another one full of baby doll bottles, for example. It’s little kid Heaven.

And thanks to all the shouting, I began to suspect Justus’ definition of church had somehow become linked to the YMCA’s enormous bins of potato heads and pieces.

Sure enough. On Sunday, when I told Justus we were going to church, he took off running for the door yelling “Church! Tatoman! Church! Tatoman!”And when we arrived, he sprinted right to the cubby hole where the potato head storage bins were and began dumping them out on the floor in sheer ecstasy.

Church, right now, is about Potato Heads.

And while I’m pretty sure that God doesn’t want his identity tied up in Playskool toys for life, I think He is probably okay with being the Provider of Potato Heads for now.