Miles Post

Miles walked into the kitchen with this rag on his head and announced, "I'm Jesus." (in an innocent, soft voice. Not in a crazed, fundamentalist visionary voice).

Then he requested, "Take my pitchya!"

I chuckled to myself as he wandered away, satisfied (or so I thought).

He returned a few moments later, now en-shawled thusly:

He looked at me expectantly.

Me: Who are you now?

Miles: God.