We’re driving by garage sales on a Saturday afternoon. Micah sees one out his window. “Aw, this one doesn’t have kids stuff. It only has important stuff.”
Micah getting in tune with his body: “Mom, I think my body wants cake. With no icing. And if that’s what my body wants then maybe I should have it.”
Brin asks what the word “suspend” means when we read it in a book.
“Maybe I’ll get suspended from school for being too kind.” she says.
“Well, Brin,” I say, “being suspended from school is not a good thing.”
“But it could be,” she counters.
“How?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she says, “Sometimes I just have to talk.”
Micah whispers to himself on the way to school, “You are born a cat, then you turn into a person.”
Brin asks about my recent trip to Cleveland, “Dad, where did you go again? The Hall and Roll and Rock of Fame?”
Micah and I go on an ice-crunching walk this morning. He’s quiet for a bit while we stomp on ice, then he says, “Thank you, God, for giving us ice!”
Micah looks at my face and his eyes get real wide. Pointing at my face he says, “Dad, you have eyelashes! I can literally see them!”
Micah’s head is on Mac’s purring belly as I sing Micah bedtime songs. “Mac sounds like hot cocoa being made,” he says.
This morning Micah is eating dry oatmeal for breakfast, then asks for some hot cocoa. He has a bite of the oatmeal, takes a sip of the cocoa, waits a bit, then with a sly grin looks at me and says, “I cooked the oatmeal in my mouth.”
Micah announces that he has to go pee.
“Okay,” says Sarah. “Wash your hands after.”
To which Micah replies, “No, pee.”