Adventures with 5, 7, and 9
We interrupt our normally scheduled Italy recaps with a brief detour into the alternate dimension that is a little boy's mind. Lately I've been helping a woman I know by picking up her 3 boys, ages
5, 7, and 9, from school every day and driving them home. It's been a
while since there have been little children in my life, so I'm enjoying
these daily doses of totally uninhibited curiosity. When I was seven, I think my chief concerns in life were how to save up enough money to buy another American Girl doll, how to become an archaeologist/astronaut/dancer/teacher, and how to avoid eating shrimp at all costs. 5, 7, and 9 are more concerned with where to store their ray guns in case we're ever attacked by Zombie Nazis (what are they teaching them in these schools?), preventing the outbreak of a war in Sweden (I'm fairly confident that we can relax on this point), and the problem of Lady Gaga.
7: "Is Jesus famous?"
9: "Yeah, duh! He's, like, the king of everything."
7: "Well, if he's RICH and famous then he could be friends with Lady Gaga."
[Confused silence]
7: "I wish a volcano would explode all over Lady Gaga. I hate her."
Me: "Whoaaaa whoa whoa -- Now, do you think that's what Jesus wants for Lady Gaga?"
7: "..........No..........."
Other recent highlights included being told that 7 would like to be homeschooled because "when you're homeschooled you don't have to learn anything." The 3 o'clock pickup is fast becoming the highlight of my day...
7: "Is Jesus famous?"
9: "Yeah, duh! He's, like, the king of everything."
7: "Well, if he's RICH and famous then he could be friends with Lady Gaga."
[Confused silence]
7: "I wish a volcano would explode all over Lady Gaga. I hate her."
Me: "Whoaaaa whoa whoa -- Now, do you think that's what Jesus wants for Lady Gaga?"
7: "..........No..........."
Other recent highlights included being told that 7 would like to be homeschooled because "when you're homeschooled you don't have to learn anything." The 3 o'clock pickup is fast becoming the highlight of my day...
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