I'm shaking the rattle. The room is shaking in response. It doesn't happen every time, but it does happen quite frequently. I find myself making a mental note to check the internet to make certain there aren't any major earthquakes or tsunamis anywhere. It's all fine and good for our house to shake, but I need to make certain there aren t any casualties. I know, I know--it's not easy for anyone to handle a baby. It's a tremendous responsibility for anyone. You make parenting a bit more difficult than it is for others, though. You get excited. The room shakes. Sometimes there are earthquakes. Weeks ago, I might've expected to get used to that effect. I haven't.

Not that I'm fooled at all by the radiant presence anymore. You're just a baby even if you are omnipotent. You re laying there smiling. Okay, so I don t necessarily believe in God, but I am a father. I may be an agnostic, but I know what cute is. Michelangelo had it wrong. There s no long, flowing beard. Just a little bit of drool. You're not reaching out to Adam. You don't look at all like George Burns, either or Alanis Morisette for that matter. The fact that you re evidently all-powerful changes nothing. Your mother and I had been hoping for a baby for a long time. So we get pregnant and it happens to be some people's definition of God. I don't care. I'm still agnostic. And as far as I'm concerned, we're going to raise you like any other kid. You get hurt, come down with a cold and I'm scanning the headlines for any natural disasters that might've happened. Not that I would be able to do anything about it if there were natural disasters linked to your general wellbeing I just want to know what I'm dealing with. I'll say it again--it's not easy parenting God. One does not look to traditional parenting books for advice in this particular circumstance. There's no parenting book with a section on harassment from mystics, natural disasters or sudden appearances or disappearances of livestock, city blocks and things.

For a time, your mother and I were consulting the Old Testament for parenting advice. It wasn't much help. What Genesis said about you is positively libelous. I don't know who to complain to, but no one knows you better than your parents. I never put much stock in holy books, but desperate times make anyone consider the absurd. While I could see you demanding people leave paradise, set plagues of locusts on the world or causing it to rain for forty days and forty nights, you ARE a baby. These are not the auspices of a rational omnipotent adult. And I guess that s what scares me more than anything: you are going to grow-up into an awareness of what you are. At some point you're going to be looking for answers that only you can provide. Honestly, that isn't all that different from anyone else growing-up. Everyone reacts to childhood differently.

Short and sweet for June this year - perhaps a bit too short? A story is as long as it needs to be, I know, but this one tests that. According to the author, this was the start of a much longer work and somehow got sent in. Gee, I wonder how THAT happened? Oh well, I'm glad it did. It caught my attention from the first sentence and fascinated me throughout. I hope Russ finishes this story soon. I can't wait to see where it's going. Let me know if you agree on out BBS - GM