Saturday, January 06, 2007

And Then We Shoot 'Em

As mentioned previously, A. has been telling some tall tales. We’re working on the difference between the truth and stories, and I’m not sure he gets it. I was at a DoReMi and You party this morning while he hung out in the super-cool playroom upstairs. One of the mothers came down and told me that A. had had a full conversation with her about his school, our “cool” house and our backyard. I smiled and nodded, wondering what he’d told her, but it wasn’t the right time to ask.

So we were getting into the car and I said casually, “So Bree told me you told her all about school?”

A: “Yeah, I did.”

Me: “Did you tell her the truth, or did you tell her stories you made up?”

A: “Weeeelll, mumble mumble mumble. But right now I need to take a nap.”

I find naps to be the perfect escape, too.


We were talking about hands and how they get bigger when you grow up. A. said, “Mama, when I grow up….”

I thought he was going to say, “My hands will be bigger than yours.” That would’ve made sense.

Instead, he came out with, “….you’re going to get shot.”

Huh? I think he’s trying to figure out how people die, and he knows people die from getting shot. I told him (when he asked me when I was going to die) that I hoped I would die when I was really, really old, so I think he has this idea that we take all our old people out and shoot them.

He said something similar to G., who reminded him, “Grandma and Grandpa are old and they haven’t gotten shot.”


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