The Letter

Dear God,
Hello. It's me, Marigold. I know. I'm just a soggy little goat - a mere speck on the Great Plasma TV of Life. But I wanted to talk to you about kind of a sensitive subject. You see, God, I know that You are all-knowing, all-seeing and infinitely wise. You are all things, to all creatures, and all that (and a bag of Peanuts, if I may say so.) And as such, You are known by many names like, well, God, The Creator, The Universe, The Force and even The Great Yahoo. Oh, wait. I think that was Yahweh.

Anyway, the point I'm trying to make, here, is that You've been around a loooong time. You've seen, well, everything. So what I want to talk to you about is this whole 'aging' thing. It happens to everyone. And when one ages, well, one sometimes begins to experience a few age-related issues. Oh, there are lots of examples, like that car you follow for miles on end waiting for it to turn that never does. Why? Because the driver simply 'forgot' the signal was on. Or like Boo - she's the oldest of our group. How many times have I seen Boo start to pick up a dropped Peanut, forget what she was doing, and wander off, only to turn around and exclaim, 'Oh, look! Someone dropped a Peanut!' Of course some of that is due to the fact that Boo is a Nubian. In retrospect, perhaps that isn't the best example. But, I mean, this stuff even happens to the goatmother. Time and again I've seen her walk into the barn carrying an armload of hay, stop, look around, and say, 'Now, why did I come in here?' See? It happens. And it is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

So, God. Far be it from me to point out the obvious to anyone as omniscient as Yourself, but I just felt like if I didn't, well, no one would. And let's face it, You are one REALLY old dude. I would never deign to convey disrespect. After all, You made the Peanut. But in light of what I've said, I'd just like to point out one thing: God, I think you left the faucet running.

Your sincere, albeit waterlogged, friend,
Marigold