My newly five-year-old Joseph came into the kitchen the other day, shoulders sagging. He sighed sadly and leaned against the counter. Then he wearily said, "Mom, being four was hard."
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We went to Wal Mart this morning. As we got out of the car, we all noticed a fluorescent green puddle on the ground next to our car. Because mysterious fluids in a Wal Mart parking lot aren't all that surprising to me, I didn't think much of it. But the boys were dying with curiosity.
"It's Kool-Aid!" one shouted.
"No, it's something leaking from the car!" shouted another.
"Melted ice cream?" suggested the first one.
And then suddenly something wonderful occurred to Joseph and with all the glee in his little heart he shouted, "HEY! Maybe we ran over a turtle! Maybe it's turtle juice!"
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The other day Joseph explained to me that he was only a few inches tall.
"Really?" I asked. He nodded. He went on to add that he had been doing battle with an imaginary superhero, and the guy had "shrunked me with his shrunk vision."
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Joseph approached a dear elderly gentleman (over 80) at church a couple of weeks ago, and told him bluntly, "You have to be really old to die. But don't worry, you're not old enough yet."
Thank goodness this dear old friend has a good sense of humor.
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Excuse me, I have to go. I just looked out the back window, and Joseph is peeking through the neighbors's fence into their backyard, barking at their dog.
Oh, I love that boy.
