When my husband and I had been engaged for about a year (and living together for about two years), he told me, in absolute sincerity as I was driving us through Santa Monica, that when we had children, he wanted to raise them as Creationists. He explained that he’d gone to a very Christian private school as a young child and been hugely influenced by his favorite teacher, Mrs M., who taught him all about how the dinosaurs had lived at the same time as humans, who eventually hunted off the gigantic reptiles for food.
Because he is totally horrible, my husband held tightly to this gag for about twenty minutes, despite the fact that I almost killed us by veering off the road in panic and then threatened to break off our engagement. I was horrified that I had somehow missed this enormous theological difference between us. How could I, the anthropologist, be engaged to a creationist?!?
He let me freak out for our entire drive, occasionally saying something obnoxious like, “You can’t seriously believe the world is more than 6,000 years old!” while looking at me grimly, until he eventually broke into hysterical laughter.
I was livid. It remains the first and only time I’ve wanted to end our relationship. (I wanted out when I thought he was a creationist and also later, after I discovered he got so much satisfaction from making me enraged, when I knew he would make me insane for the rest of our lives.)
Today, while sorting through old pictures and scrapbooks at his mom’s house, we came across proof that he really was taught, as a five-year-old kindergartner, that dinosaurs were exterminated by mankind.
It is both amazing and terrifying:
Did you know that humans in loincloths took out the whole of the stegosaurus population with bows and arrows?
Now you do.