String Cheese

We like the brand of string cheese with riddles on the wrapper. The obscene amount of string cheese consumed in our household means we have read many, many riddles. Some are clever, but whether or not the joke is worth repeating, the ritual always makes me laugh. Sis has some grasp of the humor in a pun, Mister however, just enjoys the experience. It goes something like this:
“Mom, will you read this joke?”
“Sure. What kind of room has no windows and no door?”
“Tomato!” Mister yells with confidence and enthusiasm.
The answer is ‘mushroom’. Tomatoes and mushrooms: both vegetables as far as he knows, equally funny and equally valid as an answer.
“Let’s see,” I say, peeling back the wrapper as if we haven’t read this same joke three times this week. “Mushroom!” I announce. They both laugh.
“Now read the one about the tomato!” Mister pleads.
“Mo, there is no joke about a tomato. The answer is mushroom.”
“But tell the tomato joke.” He repeats. I scoop him up for a kiss, hoping to distract him since this conversation has a predictable and unsatisfying outcome.
Then this week we did something crazy. We branched out to Colby-Jack sticks. No jokes. But he was not to be deterred.
“Mom, can you read this joke?”
“This kind of cheese doesn’t have jokes, Buddy.” I reply.
“Ya it does!” He argues. “Read it . . . please, Mom.” He points to the fine print.
“Not for individual sale.” I say flatly.
“A microwave!” He answers, his head thrown back in laughter.
He bounces down the hallway, flapping his arms and shaking his head, clearly proud of himself.

Life with preschoolers is a daily reminder that there is much to enjoy here on earth, even if you misunderstand. Nineteen years of going to school and the humorless duties of adulthood have trained me to be frustrated and intimidated by things I can’t comprehend. Mastery or nothing at all is the motto of my inflexible brain. And I think of God. It is both my responsibility and my pleasure to get to know my Heavenly Father better with the passing days. My faith must rest on sound theology. But it also good for me to remember that I have more to learn and that not everything can be understood this side of heaven. But at the end of the day I am in the protective shadow of someone who loves me, knows best, has a sense of humor, even when the nuances are lost on me.

“Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?” Romans 11:34