"How odd. He rang me the other night and begged me not to reproduce in any way, shape, or form, and that even having two cats and three houseplants might be pushing it.
I said, "God, you old silly. According to Your followers, You made me, remember? With the human equivalent of hip dysplasia, the bad knees, the deformed spine, the crooked fingers, the asthma, the 1,001 allergies, and the whole insanity thing? Would I go against your obvious plan and have a baby?"
"Oh, right," said God, a trifle nonplussed. "Must go. I've used up all my weekend minutes.""
-- just_the_ash, over at that evil evil Childfree community.