I Hate God

I was sitting in IHOP with the children, enjoying an unusually peaceful lunch, when Caroline suddenly stuck her middle finger up in the air for all of IHOP to see.

"We're not allowed to do this in school," she said.

"Of course not," I replied, while batting her hand down to the table. "It's a rude gesture."

"Well, I think it's silly," replied my sweet little girl, finger still extended.

"I guess it is kind of silly. It's only rude to us because we say that it means a particular thing, but lots of gestures have meaning." I made an ok sign and a thumbs up. "After all, you know what these things mean."

"But why is this rude?" she asks, finger going up again.

Oh, lord, why me?

"Look, you wouldn't say 'screw you' to someone, would you?," I said. lowering my voice.

She looked awed at my use of profanity. "No way!"

"Well, when you make that gesture, that's what you are saying. That's what that gesture means."

"That's not what the kids at school said," she says, looking unconvinced that I knew what I was talking about, but finally releasing her finger from the offensive position.

I was intrigued. "What do the kids at school say it means?"

"I hate God."

Does she really think that wouldn't be a rude gesture! I wasn't sure which to address first, the wrong information, or the whole God thing.

I opted for assuring her that the kids at school were wrong, but I guess we'd better have that other conversation soon, before they start burning crosses on our lawn...

...or question marks.