Thursday, September 02, 2004
On Being Nice
A couple of weeks ago Max and I were playing in the kitchen. From somewhere far out in left field, he asked, "Mommy, why are you being so nice to me?" I was, frankly, stunned by the question. I have no idea where he might have heard someone else ask that question, nor how he might have formulated the idea on his own. The best response that I could produce on short notice was, "Because I love you." "I love you too, mommy," was his reply.
A few minutes later he asked me the same question. I looked over at Max and he was grinning from ear to ear. "Are you being funny, Max?" I asked. "Uh, huh." Oh, so this was a game. I was starting to get the idea. "Because I love you, Max." "I love you, too, mommy. I love you so much I want to adopt you." I laughed out loud. Max laughed, too.
Where on earth did Max learn the word "adoption"? Does he have any idea what it means? You send your children out into the world and they come back with experiences and ideas all their own. And some of them are very, very funny. If he weren't my son already, I'd want to adopt him, too.
A few minutes later he asked me the same question. I looked over at Max and he was grinning from ear to ear. "Are you being funny, Max?" I asked. "Uh, huh." Oh, so this was a game. I was starting to get the idea. "Because I love you, Max." "I love you, too, mommy. I love you so much I want to adopt you." I laughed out loud. Max laughed, too.
Where on earth did Max learn the word "adoption"? Does he have any idea what it means? You send your children out into the world and they come back with experiences and ideas all their own. And some of them are very, very funny. If he weren't my son already, I'd want to adopt him, too.
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