When I’m dropping Nathaniel off at school today, he mentions he has a new teacher who’s living in the dorms.
“Oh, so she’s a student at Asbury?”
“Yeah. She’s learning stuff . . . like how many angels dance on a pin.”
Now I’m paying attention. “Did she say that?”
“Nope. Nobody said that. Mom, how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?”
(I think about whether to deflate this vision of medieval theological debates, since my resident medievalist has assured me it’s absolute fiction, but decide against it) “Honey, God hasn’t told us just how big angels are.”
“Maybe you should ask Google, Mom. Google will know.”