Let me set the scene…
We (the fam) are playing a rousing game of Pictionary Junior. Yours truly is a team captain, and my better half is the other team captain. My team consists of a certain 7 year old smiley-faced cherub as well as one few-days-short-of-5-years-old cheerleader/drama queen. The other team is made up of the 9 year old first-born. Competition is stiff. The good guys are winning (due in no small part to the art skills of the cheerleader). Good guys roll a 5 and advance to an all-play. The hint is “MONSTERS”. I present to you Exhibit A, my drawing. You can guess which classic movie monster is represented in the o-so-fine work of art.
The sand is barrelling through the hourglass, the guesses are way. way. WAY. off. The bad guys produce Exhibit B to win. Feast your eyes on this.
No justice whatsoever. None. I’m questioning the existence of a sovereign God.
(*the enjoyable part of the evening came when the Good Guys were actually going to let the cheerleader draw for one round. The word was “Skating Rink”. Captain took cheerleader in the other room to tell her that she was going to draw a shoe with circles on the bottom so that it looked like there were wheels under the foot. The cheerleader responded with, “no. I’m just going to draw an elephant working”. Uh. okay. I’ll allow it.)