…. Long as I got my plaaastic Jesus….

Jesus kept getting stuck between the couch cushions.

Every time I vacuumed, it was inevitable: He’d get stuck in the hose, causing the vacuum to make a weird noise. I’m pretty sure that’s the sole purpose of plastic figurines – well, that and being stepped on.  Thankfully,He had his hands outstretched in prayer, so they’d catch on the outside of the hose and keep him from getting trapped deep in the hose and really breaking things, but still – it was annoying.

So, after the third time of rescuing him from a sucky death, I sighed, and with no small amount of guilt I threw Jesus in the trash.

Unfortunately, I didn’t toss the trash in the outside trash can fast enough, and my little hoarders have learned to check it regularly to see if I’m tossing out some of their toys. (What can I say?  If it were up to them, they’d keep every single broken toy they ever come across.)  I can’t ‘say that I blame them, but it does make me feel a little weird, to have them digging through the trash looking for treasures.

Anyways, The Squid just came up to me, lower lip poking out, eyebrows lowered as he glared at me in accusation. “Why you do that? Why you throw Jesus in the trash?”  He extended his palm, and there lay plastic Jesus, His little arms lifted up at me, silently beseeching.  “Don’t do that. I love Jesus. Don’t do that, Ma.”

And then Squid ran off to the play room to put Jesus in the front seat of his little truck, so he could crash him into the wall and cause Him to die in dramatic ways, again and again.
And this, folks, is why it’s a really, really bad idea to make tiny plastic Jesus figurines. Just sayin’.

One thought on “…. Long as I got my plaaastic Jesus….

  1. I received a plaster Jesus as a first communion gift and our priest blessed it. Poor Jesus became chipped, cracked, seriously battered over the years. He lived in a shoe box in my closet. How do you throw away a BLESSED plaster Jesus?
    I finally gave him to the Salvation Army, with a note taped on him saying, “Authentic Blessed Jesus.”
    I’ve never gotten over the guilt. Not for giving him away, but for feeling like I was dumping a Chucky Doll.

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