This morning Sutt showed up at the table for breakfast with his stuffed rhinoceros in tow. Rhinoceros has spent most of his life in the toy net hanging from Sutt's ceiling, watching life go by from eight feet above, and frankly I do not know how he came to be down on earth with the rest of us on this average Friday in March, but when I set the pancakes down on the table, he was seated next to Sutt. I am used to any number of creatures showing up at our table for meals--storm troopers, ponies, a pink gorilla named Roberta, Buzz Lightyear, monster trucks, Barbies--so a Rhinoceros was really nothing of which to take notice. However, I was approximately eleven minutes into my Friday when Sutt swallowed a mouthful of pancake and announced that he had decided to name Rhinoceros "Horny," because "he has three horns on his nose."
Well, then. This was not our average table guest after all.
I love how children are so literal, it has always fascinated me. For years, unbeknownst to us, Bellamy thought that B spent his days printing bills because when she asked why Daddy had to go to work our answer was "to make money." It is funny how their little minds work. I have never been one of those people who could relive the magic of childhood through my children (probably because I have been thirty years old since birth and never lived the magic of childhood the first time) but I do enjoy picking their little brains, questioning their thoughts and decisions. These explorations are often the most enjoyable and interesting part of my day, though sometimes I get myself into territory I would rather have avoided. For example, about six months ago, Sutton and I were talking about his Papaw and I said something about how I wish he had not died. Sutt immediately became very upset-- apparently by us always saying that "Papaw has gone to Heaven," he thought Papaw had physically packed up and moved to Heaven. He told me that he did not know that Papaw had died. That conversation was a rough one for both of us, me and my little guy.
Most of the time, my kids drive me completely nuts. Regardless, they never stop being perfect to me. There is nothing about them that I would change (except, perhaps, to give them a Mute Button). And though it will likely traumatize my in-laws when Sutt introduces them to Horny, and B and I may have to sell our kidneys to pay for Belly's future orthodontia, I doubt I'll ever feel differently about my minions. They will always be flawless to me.