The Answer

Three-year-old hands roll out fat, blue snakes. Her five-year-old brother sculpts a yellow wingless bird, pinching the head to form a beak. Peppercorn eyes locate the snakes. They battle. Action stops when the beak is flattened. The sculptor has questions.

"Mom, why did God make birds?"
The snake maker pauses; this could be important.
"Please, no more God questions."
"But I really wanna know."
"I told you, I'm tired of God questions."
"Please? Just one more."
"Okay. Just one more. God made birds to look pretty in trees and to eat bugs and worms."
"YUK!!" In unison.
"Why did God make bugs and worms?"
"So the birds would have something to eat."
Snake production ceases.
"Why did God make trees?"
"For birds to sit in, and to make houses out of."
"Why did God make houses?"
"God doesn't make houses. People make houses."
"Why did God make Play-doh?"
"God didn't make Play-doh! Stores make Play-doh!
NO MORE GOD QUESTIONS!!"

Busy little hands return to their creation duties. A large ant on reconnaissance scrambles over a snake.

"Mom. Why did God make ants?"
"I DON'T KNOW! ASK GOD!"

Hands clasped and head bowed, he inquires:
"God, why did you make ants?"

Beside him, a deep three-year-old voice answers:
"CUZ I LIKE 'EM!"