He walked to the front door of the home where he grew up and was about to knock, changed his mind, turned the doorknob and walked in.
“Hey! Guess who’s home!?” He continued into the house and found his father reading a newspaper while sitting comfortably in an easy chair. “Hi, Dad.”
“Well, hi, son! What a surprise! How you doing?”
“Great, Pop, Great… uh, Dad, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“”Sure, son, what is it?”
“I think I’m God.”
A momentary silence filled the room, Father and son looked at each other- eye to eye, the father got up from the chair, crumpled the newspaper into a wrinkled ball inside his powerfully wrenching, crushing fingers, threw it at his son, took a step toward him, lifted him, threw him hard against a wall. Father walked to his crumpled son’s weakened body, offered a hand as he helped him to his feet and said, “Son, I am God.”