And so the battle between having the greatest, and devoutly Christian, parents in the world and my very strong atheistic beliefs begins. This morning, my daughter told me that the bad people in heaven would like the fact that I have a bad cough. My initial reaction to this was to find it a genuinely funny thing to say, immediately creating images in my mind of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride in Disney World, with hordes of bad guys drinking flagons of ale and singing songs about my cough and chasing a buxom young wench, all while the village burns. But then came the realization that this was a seminal moment in Emma's upbringing. Do I completely dismiss the notion of heaven and begin Emma's education in her Father's belief system? Or do I maintain the magical illusion that the people she knows and relies upon for guidance are unified when it comes to such important matters? Her Grandparents are amazing, generous, gracious people, but Daddy doesn't agree with them. I m...