Adam And Eve.

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I’ve been thinking a lot about Adam and Eve lately.As you do! Not in a theological way  I’m not qualified for that. I once tried to assemble an IKEA bookcase and accidentally created what experts later described as “a wooden trapezoid of despair,” so I’m hardly the person to interpret the mysteries of creation.  

But Adam and Eve fascinate me because As well as sharing the name of my local pub when I was 12 (True story!) they were also the first couple in history to prove that human beings should not be left unsupervised!

Imagine it: you’re Adam. You wake up in a garden so perfect it makes the Cotswolds look like a municipal car park. There are no bills, no traffic, no emails from your boss asking if you’ve “had a chance to look at that thing.” You don’t even have trousers. Life is good!

Then God gives you one rule. One. Not a list. Not a laminated chart with bullet points. Just a single instruction: “Don’t eat from that tree.”  

That’s it. That’s the whole job description. And Adam, being a man, immediately forgets it.

Enter Eve. She’s new, she’s curious, and she’s trying to make sense of a world where her entire wardrobe consists of “nothing.” She’s barely been alive five minutes when a talking snake slithers up and starts giving her nutritional advice. This is already a red flag. If a reptile ever offers you produce, you should decline politely and leave the area.

But Eve, bless her, listens. And why wouldn’t she? She has no frame of reference. She doesn’t know that snakes are untrustworthy. She doesn’t know that fruit can cause problems. She doesn’t even know what a problem is. She’s basically running on factory settings.

So she eats the fruit. And then she gives some to Adam, who eats it without asking a single follow‑up question, because Adam is the kind of man who would click “Accept All Cookies” on a website without reading anything.

And suddenly boom! they realise they’re naked. This is the moment modesty is invented, along with the first recorded instance of a man saying, “I’m fine, honestly,” while clearly not being fine.

Then God shows up, and Adam immediately blames Eve. This is a bold strategy, considering she is literally the only other human being on Earth and therefore the only person who might still talk to him. Eve, in turn, blames the snake, who at this point is probably thinking, “I just wanted to cause a little mischief, not kick‑start the entire concept of sin.”

And that’s how humanity begins: with finger‑pointing, poor impulse control, and a complete inability to follow simple instructions. It’s comforting, in a way. It explains so much about modern life.  

It explains why people microwave metal.  
It explains why someone, somewhere, still presses “Reply All” to company‑wide emails.  
It explains why every time you assemble flat‑pack furniture, you end up with one mysterious leftover screw that haunts you for the rest of your life.

But here’s the thing: I kind of admire Adam and Eve. They were pioneers. They had no parents, no manuals, no YouTube tutorials titled “Top 10 Things NOT To Do In Paradise.” They were just two people trying to make sense of a world where everything was new and confusing and occasionally involved talking wildlife.

And despite the whole “getting humanity kicked out of paradise” incident, they stuck together. They built a life. They raised children. They invented agriculture, which is impressive considering I can’t keep a basil plant alive for more than four days.

So yes, Adam and Eve made mistakes. Big ones. Catastrophic, civilisation‑altering ones. But they also did what humans have always done: muddled through, improvised wildly, blamed each other a bit, and carried on.

And honestly, if that isn’t the most relatable thing in the world, I don’t know what is!?

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