Five Ways I Think God May Have Messed Up



1.  I realize that the entire notion of a “childhood” (and, ergo, parenting) is extremely new in the great scope of history. That for millennia, the majority of children did not make it to adulthood. That is because kids are stupid. If God meant for the species to continue, he should have made them smarter. They do at least 10 potentially deadly things every day. No matter how old they get. For instance, my toddler’s favorite game right now is to put a towel over her head, and run around the house at top speed. Today I let her go, just to see what would happen. (I didn’t say I was a GOOD mother…) She ran, she giggled. She took a door to the head. She sat and cried. Then she put the towel back on and kept running.


2.  A wise man I once knew posited the theory that God forgot to put a “cut-out” mechanism in the brains of those who are suicidal. When seratonin levels dipped to a watermarked low point, the body should just come to a nice restful halt, until those levels can be topped up, and no harm will be done.


3.  Fats are delicious. Why didn’t God put chemicals in fricking carrots that would cause the same effect in the body? It would have been so easy (I’m assuming).


4.  People who are too closely related to reproduce, can still reproduce. God, maybe you could have made sperm and eggs that could recognize each other. “Whoo-ee, say, ain’t you Cousin Earl’s daughter? I reckon I oughta just back on outta here!” Because I’ve said it before, and I’m saying it again: You may think no one will find out you slept with your cousin, but the proof is right there, running the Tilt-A-Whirl.


5.  Mosquitoes. Seriously, God? WTF?


3 responses to “Five Ways I Think God May Have Messed Up

  1. My mother used to call me editor-of-the-world. I think it started because I called myself that because of a sketch on Kids in the Hall – but anyway – I now hand the torch to you, my friend, most graciously.

    I will now wipe away tears of mirth and tend toward bed.

  2. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

    Now I can face the day.

  3. My brother was like that. He could hit a wall five times and I do not know if it was a lack of short term memory or what but he would just give it another go and whammo, wall strike number six. I am agog he did not grow up with brain damage. [Well, no recorded brain damage.] It was awful good for entertainment purposes though.

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