When people say they are building themselves a house, they do not mean that they are doing every single thing themselves. They do not lay every brick, plumb every utility, tighten every nut. No, what they mean is that they are putting up the money and letting someone else do it ( a nut-tightening experience in itself).
So when we learnt at school that God made the world, what was actually meant is that God made some plans, then got some men in. He engaged the company Heavenly Homes, run by St Thomas, the patron saint of builders, and St Gomer, patron saint of cowboys (see, research).
And just six days later (although their quote had said four) it was time for the snag-list meeting….
God, Thomas and Gomer stared down into the Grand Canyon. “How did I end up with this giant hole?” asked God (I’ve checked Google, no-one’s ever typed that sentence before).
“Er, you know that big moon thing that you got us to hang in the sky?” said Thomas. “Well, it fell. Turned out it was too heavy.”
God looked up at the moon, now sitting safely in the sky. “How did you solve the problem of getting it to stay there?”
“We used a lighter material,” said Thomas, “we made it out of cheese.”
“What’s cheese?” asked God. “Curdled goat’s piss,” said Gomer helpfully.
“Good God,” said God.
He waved his hand, and Lo! they were the next snag. They all gazed at the Niagara Falls.
“Don’t patronise me,” snapped God.
“Ok,” admitted Thomas, “we made a small miscalculation. We built the riverbed at the Canada end a bit higher than the American end.”
God looked at the towering wall of water. “ Define a bit,” he said.
“About two hundred feet,” mumbled Gomer, staring down at his
“That’s quite a miscalculation,” said God.
(If he thinks that’s bad, wait until he sees the dinosaurs, thought Thomas. They were only supposed to be the size of corgis).
Again, God waved his hand. A unicorn appeared in front of them. “Story?” asked God.
“We got St John Bosco to help with the beasts of the field,” said Peter, “but of course he is just the patron saint of apprentices. He glued an elephant’s tusk to a horse’s head by mistake.”
“I see,” he sighed. “Did he create any other daft looking animals?”
Thomas thought of the giraffe, where John Bosco had screwed a T-Rex’s head and neck onto a deer’s torso; of the penguin, where he had stuck the feet directly onto the body, leaving out the legs; and of the hammerhead shark, an ordinary shark which had swallowed St JB’s lump hammer, with cartoon-like results. “Er, no,” he said warily.
He needn’t have worried, God wasn’t listening anyway, he was staring at the creature that was walking towards them. It was like the man that he had designed for them to build, yet subtly different. As He stared at the bumps on her chest and the way her hips swayed as she walked he felt an inexplicable urge to shout “Phoarrrr!”.
“What’s that?” he asked hoarsely.
“It’s called a woman,” said Thomas. “We made her out of spare parts of Adam.”
“Well,” he was lonely, and to be honest he was driving us nuts, always hanging around and asking us to play three-and-in with him.”
The woman approached them and gazed upon everything. She saw that it was good.
“Not bad,” she said. “Put up some shelves.”
God had never created loins, but the sight of her bum moving from side to side as she walked away made him realise that they had created themselves, as he could feel a stirring in them.
It was the Seventh day. God rested.
By this I mean he lay down in a darkened room with a cold cloth on his forehead.
He could see trouble ahead.