I’m a Believer


H
ow is it that a pair of habitual atheists can produce two children who are devout Christians?

Some scientists claim faith is genetically pre-determined, but I fear our two are just more than usually keen to disbelieve their parents. Our son, who’s five, is a firm believer in God and Father Christmas, and uses emotional blackmail to get me to say I am too:

“But Mummy, if you don’t believe in God I won’t see you again when I die.”
So I have to make him happy, don’t I?

And when his three year old sister asks,
“Do I believe in God, Mummy?” all I can say is,
“If you want to, darling.”

And she does want to. She’s taken to quizzing one of her friend’s mothers, a regular churchgoer, about God, as my answers don’t seem to satisfy her.

All their father believes in is Lincoln City Football Club.

To read the rest of this article, see Bad Mothers Club.

About Beta Mum

Here you can find the ramblings of a trapeze artist turned journalist who ran away from the circus to join the BBC. Cathy "mine's a Kir Royale" Keir then spent thirteen years working in Jersey, Guernsey and Devon, before downgrading to what you see before you. She has contributed articles to The Guardian, The Stage and Television Today, Junior Magazine and both the BBC and Bad Mothers Club websites. She has two children who think women can’t be prime ministers. She blames herself.
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