Darwin shrugged

On Sunday, faced with the prospect of yet another full weekend stuck inside because of the cold, I had the bright idea that we should go to the Smithsonian's natural history museum and check out the dinosaurs. The Curious George book about his trip to a museum is in heavy rotation lately, and I knew Samson would get a kick out of seeing the giant skeletons.

Of course, I forgot that this past weekend was President's weekend. So every third family within an hours' drive of D.C. had the same bright idea that I did. Poor Samson slept almost the whole trip down only to wake and get 25 minutes of driving in circles looking for a parking space.

And because it was about 14 degrees and windy, we were determined to park as close as we could get. We finally met with success, and the wait was definitely worth it. Lots of great exhibits, especially the new hall of mammals, which has a kind of African savannah room, complete with timed thunder storm sounds and stuffed leopards sinking their teeth into stuffed gazelles. Something for everyone.

Back by the woolly mammoth skeleton was a little exhibit of cave people [I guess it's considered an exhibit; it really looked just like a big diorama]. In any event, Samson took one look at the bearded guy in an animal skin and proclaimed "It's Jesus."

I'm not sure that my explanation of prehistoric people was in any way helpful [you try explaining the concept], but he stopped and thought for a second and offered: "They help Jesus."

And that was that.

Part of me wanted to issue some kind of public disclaimer that Vicki and I weren't teaching our son according the Kansas board of ed curriculum, but mostly I just thought it was funny.

I'm kept picturing Jesus' helpers in the Garden of Gethsemane bumrushing the Romans.

Maybe Mel Gibson will try that scenario out if he makes a sequel. I'd pay $9 to see it.