That ain't very Christian!

There is a certain saying that can frequently be heard being blurted out around our house (or my workplace) when things seem to have gone awry. Jeff says it too, but it is mostly me who beats it to death. Is anyone surprised? Of course it is not my own material, but rather a catch phrase from a popular comedian of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. We are not huge fans of his work, but I must admit he has grown on me with his thick, annoying and very fake southern accent. I just recently read that he was actually born and raised on a pig farm in Nebraska and has no southern roots at all, just as I had suspected. (Yes, I am purposely neglecting to mention who he is...my mama is reading...hi, Mom!)

Be that as it may, "That ain't very Christian!" has proved to be a useful tool in variety of frustrating circumstances, particularly when the said frustration has no moral, spiritual, or otherwise religious implication. The toilet is clogged...That ain't very Christian! We're out of milk...That ain't very Christian! The printer has a paper jam...That ain't very Christian! The Chinese restaurant is out of those crunchy things you put in your Won Ton soup...That ain't very Christian! (That was for you, Shari!) You get the idea!

So Julia is five and has been diligently working on developing her vocabulary. We do live in Michigan, so not surprisingly one juicy little find has been the word "ain't". It is a delicate matter explaining why she should not say it since there are a few respected people in her life who think it is a fine word to say. I simply told her that she sounded a lot smarter when she didn't say it and that seemed to suffice. I mean, who would knowingly say something that would spoil her chances of sounding smart?! Plus, I couldn't make it a matter of rightness or wrongness and have her going to school correcting everyone as she had done earlier in the year, nearly losing her dearest friend who wouldn't heed her warning to stop taking the Lord's name in vain. A little different, but still...

So recently she was in a state of absolute hysteria over her belief that Andrew had stolen her glow-in-the-dark bracelet that Gramma had bought for her on our camping trip. "I'm not joking, I'm not lying, and I'm not confused! You have to believe me! Andrew STOLE it and you have to make him give it back!" she sobbed over and over and over and over. Since no amount of reasoning could sway her and she was clearly inconsolable, I just let her ramble on and on as I continued unpacking. But one of the last times around I heard her randomly interject, "And why are you allowed to say ain't like 'That ain't very Christian,' but we aren't? It AIN'T very fair!" and then continue right on with her rant without missing a beat.

As it turned out, Andrew was in fact not guilty as charged. The bracelet was in the seat pocket of the van right where she had placed for safekeeping on the trip home.