Our son is at the stage where he makes connections between things he reads in books and things that exist in our house. He can't talk yet, but when he sees an animal in a book for example, he points off in the distance and grunts, signaling to us that such an animal exists somewhere else in our abode. He will not stop grunting and pointing until we have verbally stated that to which he is referring. It proves difficult for us sometimes. "Where did I see a penguin in the house?" Or the first time he insisted there was a bunny in the house, contrary to parental knowledge. He sure showed his mommy.
Last night we reached a new level of object transference. While reading one of his many wonderful Zonderkidz books, we came across a picture of Jesus. As per usual we stated the name of the person/thing at which he was pointing in first French, then English. Customarily this is followed by him pointing into the distance, usually in reference to the crucifix in our basement. Not this time. This time he burrowed his pointer finger deep into my chest, as it was very obvious to him that I am Jesus. His youthful innocence diminishing any blasphemy inherent in such an assertion, we tried very hard not to burst out in laughter and assured him that daddy was not Jesus, just daddy. He insisted further. We decided to compromise and told him that both daddy and Jesus were men (myself not being in the past tense; at least not until after the third kid). He was satisfied with this explanation.
I'm not sure where he obtained the notion that I was Jesus. I don't even have facial hair beyond weekend stubble. But it sure makes me feel like I've got some big shoes to fill!