Why Costco is like Heaven

I imagine when (not if) I get to heaven, it will be similar to visiting Costco. For example, I imagine I will have to show some sort of photo ID to St. Peter and he'll have a little counter/clicker in his hand that will let him know when heaven is full.

I also think if you are an upgraded (business or executive in Costco terms- Bishop, Nursery Leader or Ward Choir director in other terms) member, you will get to enter earlier.

For some reason, I also picture heaven as a place where you can wander around and be fed tasty treats by kind elderly people. (Fried cheese? Cheese on a cracker? Cheese on a stick? Cheese thrown into my mouth like a porpoise at Seaworld? Don't mind if I do.)

I also think heaven is where you can feed your children for $1.50 a pop (and that includes unlimited refills of Diet Coke- to give your day a little lift).

Surely heaven is a place where you can get the softest goat-skin and fleece-lined slippers right next to the macadamia nut and blueberry cereal. It's also a place where you can buy 15 gallons of garlic-stuffed olives.

And of course, when you leave heaven (to zip down to earth to make a quick manifestation here and there), you will need to have some arch-angel mark some sort of receipt so you can make it back for the resurrection.