How to Raise Your Child with God

You guys know me. I rarely get angry, even though I’m a daddy blogger and it’s practically my job to get angry about anything child-related.

That’s just how smooth and cool I am.

But when I saw this thing on the Internet about some guy who isn’t raising his children with god, I became furious. Who does this guy think he is? What does he mean, he’s raising his kids without god? Who’s he raising them with? Sigourney Weaver?

I don’t know the answers to those and many other questions because I didn’t actually read the post. I was too angry about the headline!

Excuse me for being old school, but I AM raising my child with god.

You’re rolling your eyes right now, aren’t you? Well stop it.

The god I’m raising my child with isn’t a large white man with a big beard. He’s not even a man. He’s this:

Look at those eyes, beaming like lights in a head, always watching, waiting, judging. And that mouth, almost grill-like, in a permanent, judging frown. And those cheeks? Oh, the cheeks! Puffed up, full of air, but rubbery to the touch! He’s so intimidating.

So when the boy misbehaves, I tell him to be careful, because god is watching. And we both look over at the thing in the corner.

And the boy starts to tremble. That’s how I know he’s going to be a good person.

Now, my lady friend claims that this thing is not actually God, but a toy for children to ride.

When she says that, I usually just fall to the ground, screaming and weeping until she leaves the room.

And from the corner of my eye, I can see God smiling, because I’ve served him well.

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