My just-turned-five year old son is a great source of entertainment for me. . . entertainment and dubious reflection. . . .
Earlier, after he returned home from preschool, when my back was turned, he knocked his baby brother on the head with his miniature toy bat. .. "softly". It's not a big heavy bat, but it's a wooden bat nevertheless. His Dad had gotten it for him at the ball park.
Hearing my baby cry, I ran to investigate. "What are you doing?! I yelled. "Why is he crying? Did you hit him on the head with the bat?!"
Concerned, with furrowed brow, mostly because he knew the jig was up, he yelled back with consternation. "I did it carefully!"
There's a whole different world out there. . . The perspective of a child. Wow. What do you say to that? I felt my brain twist uncomfortably.
"You don't hit people carefully! You shouldn't be hitting him at all!"
But I knew I'd been had. You just can't argue with this kind of logic. I'd been struck speechless.
His last question, before running off to better, more enjoyable past times. . .
"Mommy, when am I getting a dog?"