The Burning Bush

Yesterday Dude was doing some yard work with our son... well I guess our son was just out there with him. He would run in and out giving my daughter and I updates about what was going on outside.
"Mama! Daddy is out there talking to our navel," he told us one time. "It's okay. He can talk to him. We should get to know our new neighbor," I assured him.
"Well he can't do nothin' if he talking to him," he came back.
He had a point. We all know women are much better at multi-tasking than men but I told our son he (Dude) would be okay.
"You just go outside and keep an eye out on him," I winked.
He ran back outside. I looked out the door and secretly gave him a thumbs up to encourage him. He nodded back.
About 15 minutes later he came in coughing (over-the-top), and waving his hand in front of his face.
"Look at that steam out there!" my daughter commented, looking out the door.
"Mama. You see that smoke out there?" my son asked. "Well that's Daddy out there with the navel burning down that bush!"
Dude had done that last summer but I guess he didn't burn it enough. The bush becomes a headache sometimes when the wind blows- leaving its long remnants across our yards.
Our daughter the philosopher chimed in.
"Oh! You know what Daddy is like Moses. Although he doesn't seem to be talking to the bush."
I thought that was the end of that until we were preparing to say our prayers for bed. Then our son out of the blue- five hours later said,
"Mama. Daddy going to hell for burning that bush ain't he?"