There was a time, long ago, when I was very religious. I grew up in a strict conservative church, and it shaped every aspect of my life. I assumed I would raise my children the same way. In fact, I once got into a very heated argument with my boyfriend of the time because he said HIS children would attend public school (gasp! Public school! With heathens!!) and I was 100% sure MY children would never set foot into such a den of evil.
Things change, obviously. I've touched on the basics of religion with the Terrors, but we are very clearly an atheist house. Girl Terror patted my arm and said "Such a nice story" when I told her about angels. I wasn't sure what Boy Terror thought until this week. Hubby was taking him to piano lessons...
Hubby was driving by the church his mom used attend.
Hubby: Grandma used to take me to that church.
Boy Terror: What did you do there?
H: We sang, people prayed, and read the Bible.
Boy: That must have been pretty boring, since Jesus and God aren't real.
I admit, I am a bit surprised the lightening hasn't found me yet. If my father were dead, he'd be rolling in his grave. I'm probably going to hell.