A little Birdie

The moment a little boy is concerned with which is a jay and which is a sparrow, he can no longer see the birds or hear them sing. -Eric Berne

This morning I was sitting on the couch checking my email when Gideon stumbled out of his bedroom. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and said softly, "Mommy, a little birdie came in my bed with me when I was sleeping." I mumbled something about how nice that was, but it wasn't until a few moments later, when he sat down beside me, that it caught my eye: a white feather stuck to his nightshirt! I said, "Oh my goodness! A birdie DID sleep with you! Where did this feather come from?" He looked as surprised as I did and grinned from ear to ear at the feather. "Mommy, that birdie slept on my fingers!"

I told my husband and it really creeped him out. I, however, have gotten so much joy and entertainment out of our little mystery. Who knows, maybe God did send a little birdie to sleep with my sweet boy last night. Anything is possible...

Moon Cheese

Yesterday I showed my boys a globe. I held it out in our living room, signaled to them where the sun would be, where the moon was, pointed to Alaska, where we live. I spun it just a little and made a line to Ontario, where Grandma and Grandpa live and yet further and further and just a little more spinning and then, when we reached the complete opposite side of the globe, we were there- Rwanda. Their eyes were wide with discovery.

Much to my dismay, I realized this morning that the lesson must not have completely sunk in because Gideon is now thoroughly convinced that his baby sister lives on the moon. And that the moon is made of cheese. And that he wants Jubilee to bring him moon-cheese when we return on the airplane. The best part is, he is dead serious.

I haven't bothered to correct him. I am just going to get as many laughs out of this one as I can. It does my heart good. Moon Cheese. I love that boy.