The miracle of the parable of the caterpillars and the priest

The children were talking to me about their school assemblies yesterday in the car on the way home from school.

On Mondays, a chap who I will call Padre comes in to talk to the children.  He tells them stories about God, and religion, and not snapping each other’s heads off and spitting down the neck stump. That sort of thing.

He is involved in the school in lots of ways, and I have always understood that he is a priest, or on the way to being a priest.

Tallulah said:

‘Padre tells us stories every Monday.  I like him, but the stories are a bit Goddy.’

I said:

‘Well, it is kind of in his job description, right?’

She said:

‘Why?’

I said:

‘Well, he’s a priest isn’t he?’

She said:

‘No! He works at Caterpillar.’

(Caterpillar, the company that makes the diggers etc, is near where we live.  This story only works if you a) know this fact, and b) know that Oscar does not know this fact. Continue as you were.)

I said:

‘Oh! Well maybe he goes to Caterpillar and tells them Goddy stories there as well?’

Oscar interjected:

‘That would be a really hard job to do.  He’d have to make himself extremely small to be able to tell caterpillars a story properly.’