In my child's elementary school, the kids learn about famous artists and the techniques they used. Jake noticed the other day that all of the artists they have studied so far are dead. As doornails. He chewed on this for quite some time, then came up with this idea illustrated here:
"The only artist who was famous while alive was the inventor of the circle."
Sad, but true, probably. And wouldn't you know, the circle had been around for ages by the time I was born. So this explains why I am not famous. However, I like to think that the person who invented the circle was a woman--Eve maybe. She was drawing something for her many children, all of whom had terrible table manners. "We need something like this to put our food on," she might have said as the boys gathered around the campfire and attacked the roast she had spent all day cooking. "You know, so we can eat like civilized people." She picked up a stick and drew this thing in the dirt. It was round. It was complete. It was . . . a plate.
Next to the circle, Eve drew a rectangle. Her lines were straight and bold. "This is the next thing," she told her kids. The boys grunted and jostled each other for a better look at what their mother had just invented. "It's called a table, and we're going to put our plates on it." The boys scratched their heads. They weren't sure they liked these new things their mother had come up with.
Can you guess what came next? Squares. "These are stools," Eve said, drawing the final lines with a fluorish. "You will sit on them to eat the food on your plates." The boys groaned. Eve giggled. She had this all figured out, even down to cleanup duty.
Just then, Adam walked by. "And that," Eve said, pointing to her husband, "is called a dishwasher."
So apparently, all Jake thinks about during church is food. The top illustration depicts a cat (I think) saying, "Not mice loaf again." Come to think of it, we haven't had meat loaf in a long while, not since the time I cooked it for nearly two hours and it still came out pink and made me sick.
The next comic shows two bottles, one labeled "blood" and the other "fruit punch." Jake must have also been thirsty. Although now that he mentions it, it has been a long time since I've had me some good fruit punch. Remember Hawaiian Punch? It was really just red sugar water, but to me it was mother's milk. I only got it on school field trips, when my mother would put it in the fridge overnight, then wrap it in foil to keep it cold.