The Church Offering Debacle

I can say with confidence that I am definitely a fiscal conservative. I want my money to be my money, and I want to have the option of donating a portion of it to the less fortunate, or just making it rain on naked strippers if I feel like it.

My son has apparently already developed my appreciation for hoarding money, as we learned the hard way at church the other night.

Let me just explain this first. We go to church on Wednesday night, a service known as "W.O.W." which I believe stands for "W.O.W. on Wednesday" or something like that. Maybe it stands for "Whip Out Weiners." I guess I'm not certain.

Anyhow, the WOW service is very kid oriented, with a lot of singing and dancing, and mercifully a really short sermon. The sermon usually sounds something like this.

"See that flagpole? God made it. See that hill? God made that too. See that pile of sawdust? God made it. God's awesome. Fist bump your neighbor. God's great. Clap 3 times. God rules. Sing this song. Know who made up the words? That's right, God. Go in peace and serve the lord."

That's about it, which is nice, because about 30 seconds into the service my kids get antsy and start rummaging through my wife's purse looking for snacks, running up and down the aisles, and picking tiny green dot stickers out of the bible and sticking them to everything, and there's only so much of that you can take as a parent before you start choking the children, which is frowned upon in the sanctuary.

So there we are, in the middle of church, when it becomes time for the offering. I start handing out dollar bills to everybody around me, like I'm Al Czervik or something, and then in theory, the children go up to the front up the church, plop the dollar into that felt-covered bowl thing that looks like a giant billiards pocket, and come back, satisfied that they'd done their part to keep the people in Japan floating around aimlessly due to the tsunami fed, or to keep the church from being foreclosed upon because apparently God, with his infinite power, can't pay his bills on time. In theory, this is how it goes.

In reality, while my daughter goes up and deposits the money, my son has decided that the dollar is now his, and he has chosen to pocket it rather than donate it to an unknown cause. This causes problems.

Us: Miles, go on up and give your offering.

Miles: No!

Us: Um. Yes, you have to.

Miles (Emphatically): NO!!! It's mine!

Us: Miles, don't you want to help our the poor children? (This is our old standby. If we ever have an issue with throwing away toys or something, the boilerplate mantra is that the toys or items are going to poor children. There is a giant island in the North Atlantic filled with poor children happily playing with our old Happy Meal toys.)

Miles: NO!! Tell them to get their own money!! This is my big money!

Us: Fine, but you can't just keep the money. Give it back.

Miles: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

What followed was a gigantic tantrum right in the middle of church. It was a lucky break that the offering music was playing loudly so nobody noticed except people nearby who could see my beautiful little boy yelling his lungs out with a death grip on a dollar bill. I'm sure they were confused.

Finally we calmed him down a little, but he still wouldn't let go of the dollar. Fine, I'll pay a dollar for a lack of screaming. Seems like a good investment to me, and things turned out OK, except for that the very instant church ended Miles said loudly to no one in particular, "IT'S OVER LET'S GET OUTTA HERE." Even the pastor heard that one.

I don't know what the moral of this story. Don't ever give Miles a dollar I guess...