Sunday, January 29, 2006
It had to happen, but not this soon...
"Mommy, I want a gun."
Max's announcement from the backseat this morning hit me like a rifle kick. We've never discussed guns, nor, to my knowledge, has Max ever seen one. I tried to sound non-chalant.
"Max, do you know what a gun is?"
"It's a special kind of stick that shoots out fire."
"Mmmm, that's interesting. Do you know what a gun is used for?"
"Yes, someone takes it away from you and throws it over the fence."
And that might be exactly what I'd do if I found Max with a gun.
"Where did you learn about guns?"
"At school. From Peter and Gabriel."
Ah, Peter and Gabriel, the source of other unwelcome input as well. Like lollipops in carpool. And "I don't like the crust on my sandwich. " "I want my own Christmas tree in my room." At least Max missed the day one of them graphically described how to field dress a deer.
Some days it's enough to make me contemplate homeschooling.
But not for very long.
Max's announcement from the backseat this morning hit me like a rifle kick. We've never discussed guns, nor, to my knowledge, has Max ever seen one. I tried to sound non-chalant.
"Max, do you know what a gun is?"
"It's a special kind of stick that shoots out fire."
"Mmmm, that's interesting. Do you know what a gun is used for?"
"Yes, someone takes it away from you and throws it over the fence."
And that might be exactly what I'd do if I found Max with a gun.
"Where did you learn about guns?"
"At school. From Peter and Gabriel."
Ah, Peter and Gabriel, the source of other unwelcome input as well. Like lollipops in carpool. And "I don't like the crust on my sandwich. " "I want my own Christmas tree in my room." At least Max missed the day one of them graphically described how to field dress a deer.
Some days it's enough to make me contemplate homeschooling.
But not for very long.
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