So the post-meal-prayer conversation goes like this:

3 Year Old: Alex had his eyes open while you were praying!
Dad: How did you know that if your eyes weren’t open?

And the Dad then feels smug and proud despite the fact that (A) his parents almost certainly said this to him and therefore he can’t claim any creativity and (B) he just mentally outmastered a three-year old.

I wonder in how many homes this conversation has unfolded in the history of family prayer. 100 million times? A billion?

I say it’s bourgeois. Have no part in it!