Driving home from a trip to Kline’s (only the best ice cream in the Valley), the children were asking about houses and the difference between brick an siding. Bri pointed out a white sided house up ahead.
“Do you see that house, guys?”
“Oh, yes!” Bear chirps from the back of the van, and then in all seriousness asks, “Is it made of straw?”
Recently we got a new dishwasher. Our old one just up and went kaput. The day it was installed, the children plied me with questions about how it worked, how to run it, why it was white, how to lock and unlock it, etc.
As serious as he could be, my Bear said to me, “Mom! If a robber got into our house, it would be good that the dishwasher is locked because he might not know how to unlock it and then he couldn’t steal anything from it.”
Well now, I hadn’t thought of that.
But, oh, it gets better.
His eyes widened, and his dimples deepened as he grinned mischievously, “AND, if he DID get the dishwasher open, we could sneak up behind him and push him inside, shut the door and lock him in. And THAT,” he clapped his hands, “is how we’d catch the robber.”
Yep. He’s a sharp one, my Bear.
A few weeks ago, Bear learned to ride his bike without the training wheels. Before we go on, I must mention that his older brother told him he had to wait until he was six to learn because that’s when HE learned to do it. Bear was pleasantly surprised to discover he could learn whenever he wanted to. He giggled his high-pitched giggle, and ran to jump on his little red bike. It took a bit, but he got the hang of it. Riding on our driveway was still too much, but he could hold his balance in the grass and go, go, go.
That night, Ash and Junior, the boy next door, were racing their bikes up and down our joint driveway. Bear decided to get in on the action, but couldn’t go nearly as fast as the other boys. Watching them, instead of where he was going, Bear took a tumble. Bri got to him as he got up, and was Bear mad! He stomped his foot, his teary face grimacing in anger. He slammed his fist into his palm, crying.
Bri held him and told him, “If you don’t watch where you’re going you’re going to crash. That’s why you need to watch where you’re going.”
Bear stomped his foot again, “But it’s all THEIR fault,” he said.
Bri shook his head. “They didn’t make you fall, Bear. You fell because you were watching them.”
“I knooooow.” he wailed, still angry, “It’s still their fault. They are just. so. AWESOME. I have to watch them. They’re just. so. COOL, Daddy, they made me fall off. I can’t stop watching them.”
There’s a lesson in there somewhere, I’m sure. But I’m too busy laughing to figure out what it is.