Underwear theology

Sunday afternoon Colby said he wasn't feeling well and laid down to rest while I set up a video for the girls and I to watch on Haley's bed. Twenty minutes later, Darcy was throwing up her lunch all over me, the DVD player, and the bed.  I cleaned up the entire mess myself (aren't you proud, Jennifer?) even though I dry-heaved a few times. 

A couple hours later I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor when Darcy comes in and out of nowhere asks, "Iz God ezeywhe-ah?"
Feeling proud that my daughter was contemplating the doctrine of omnipresence, I responded, "Yes! Good job, Darcy...He is everywhere..."
The next thing out of her mouth was, "He in my pants?"
"Hmmm...well..." I was befuddled by my toddler's ability to engage in deductive reasoning.
"He in my undew-wey-ah?"
What do you say?
"I don't want God see my undew-wey-ah!!"

Before I could respond, Darcy threw up again all over the floor that I had just sanitized. As I cleaned up regurgitated bananas, I was stunned that I had just had a theological conversation with my two-year-old. Now if she could just learn her colors...

Two hours later, I was throwing up...it's a good thing this thing is only 24 hours...