Happens To The Best Of Us

As we walked out of the gas station restroom, Max remarked, “I wish I could see the inside of my body.”

“Yuck,” I answered.  “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I didn’t get to see it when I was made!” she answered simply.

I could have let it go at that, but I know Max well enough to know to keep pressing the point.  “Well, what did you see when you were made?”

“Not much.  Just God,” she shrugged.

Oh, is that all?  “And how was God doing when you saw Him last?  Was He doing alright?” I asked.

She shook her head thoughtfully.   “No.  He was making someone else and He didn’t know where all the right parts went.  He was having a bad day.”

Happens to the best of us.

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One response to “Happens To The Best Of Us

  1. dang. she saw me being made!

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