Mightier Than The Pen

Making The World A Bitter Place

The Terrible Twos: a Divine Conspiracy

with 2 comments

God: OK, Gabriel, I’ll take a look at the next match. What do we got?

Gabriel: Jessica and Arthur McBride. She’s five months pregnant with a girl, but they don’t know the sex yet.

God: (nods knowingly) Right. To make sure justice is served, we need to make sure this kid destroys everything in her path between the ages of two and eight.

Gabriel: Well, that’s the easy part, Lord, as You’ve pointed out before.

God: Quite right, Gabriel, quite right. Behavioral problems aren’t all that hard to find in our inventory of unused souls. I suppose that’s what happens when they sit around, gathering dust for all these millennia. They start to decay. You didn’t find all this namby-pamby sensitivity and softness in earlier generations, did you? Of course not. Take a memo, Gabriel: next time around, make sure My creation has an anti-entropy feature. Shouldn’t cost too much; I have more money than…well, than whoever.

Gabriel: (scribbling) Yes, sir.

God: So back to these McBride people. As I recall, Jessica caused her parents a good bit of grief with her shenanigans – that smashed set of decorative bone china in 1985 comes to mind – and Arthur never made good on paying for the four broken windows from that summer of baseball in the street. He also neglects to put recyclables in the proper bins, so we can piggyback on that.

Gabriel: Is this the Arthur McBride who once threw a cup of beer at a player during an NCAA game?

God: Yes, and we might throw an extra bit of aggravation his way as a result, but I haven’t decided yet if doing so via his offspring is the best avenue for it. I’ll let you know. In any case, his more or less constant mistreatment of his sister the entire time they lived under their parents’ roof is enough on its own.

Gabriel: Should I put them down for anything unusual?

God: Not especially; the standard set of parenting frustrations is pretty potent as it is. You’ve never been human, Gabriel, so you’ll have to take My word for it, but that little bit of Me that resides in the human soul feels every iota of suffering.

Gabriel: Yes, Lord.

God: Do you have a list of recommendations for specific troubles?

Gabriel: Yes, sir. The idiosyncrasies of the McBrides make them good candidates for a child who passes out from temper tantrums.

God: Excellent. That should give them some good cause for panic, at least the first couple of times. Once it becomes routine, however, we need something else.

Gabriel: (nods) And that’s where Uncle George comes in.

God: Wonderful! A perfect way to stoke their neuroses about alcohol. I assume he’ll be available routinely?

Gabriel: Mostly around holiday times, when the extended family gets together, but if You remember, Lord, we have George renting a place just a short drive from them from the time this kid enters first grade until the middle of fourth.

God: Yes, that’s right, George’s mishap with a sanitation truck will prove instrumental in yet another disappointment for Chicago Cubs fans. It never gets old, you know.

Gabriel: Of course not, Lord, but that’s small potatoes compared with that whole Arab-Israeli conflict, isn’t it?

God: Only in terms of the number of people it directly affects, Gabriel; the intensity of the emotion is far greater, I assure you. In any case, make sure George’s accident coincides with the McBrides’ trip to Disney: that way we can take advantage of the kid’s newly discovered allergy to peanuts to ruin the vacations of the four other dysfunctional families that are just asking for it.

Gabriel: I’ve taken the liberty of including a swarm of mosquitoes in that scenario, Lord.

God: Good thinking. And have the local pharmacies run out of topical treatments right before that.

Gabriel:(scribbles) Yes, sir.

God: Now, what about her teenage years?

Gabriel: A bunch of the other archangels were kicking this one around for a while. The consensus seems to be only mild acne, but a severely strained relationship with her father over an offhand comment about her complexion that he meant as a joke.

God: That’s good stuff, but you need to make sure it has staying power. Is she fickle, or strong-minded?

Gabriel: Strong-minded, Lord. Thus the prom disaster.

God: (shakes head) The poor Adams boy will have no idea what hit him. OK, Gabriel, this looks good enough for a draft proposal. I’ll review the specifics and get back to you, right after I schedule the premature deaths of a few heads of state.

Advertisements

Written by Thag

February 5, 2011 at 8:18 pm

2 Responses

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. hahahah “a child who passes out from temper tantrums.” God and Gabriel must have had that exact convo when my youngest was born! VERY funny post!

    livelaughloveliquor

    February 6, 2011 at 7:12 pm

    • We once found ourselves at some forgettable burger joint with our oldest when he was a toddler; his tantrum got progressively more frenzied until he basically stopped breathing. Somehow my wife retained her wits and calmly talked him back to normal.

      I’d have run for a defibrillator at the drop of a hat.

      Thag

      February 6, 2011 at 7:19 pm


You got something to say?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s