The Life of the Mind

Since the rescue helicopter moved from the living room to our boy's bedroom a couple of weeks ago, morphing into an urban search and rescue vehicle in the process, a new step has been added to our bedtime routine. It involves moving the many boxes, kits, hats, and jackets needed by an EMT from the red Little Tykes race car bed (which doubles as the aforementioned rescue vehicle) to the book-reading chair beside it.

We were making this move tonight when our boy announced, "Tomorrow's Friday!"

"Yes, it is," I said.

"Friday is the day I don't work, so we can leave all this stuff in the chair instead of putting it back in the car," he said.

"OK," I said. "That sounds good."

And then I wondered what conversation or negotiation between my beloved and me he overheard that led him to make that declaration. Were we talking through the "day care dance," reviewing pick-up arrangements and planning car seat placements? Or were we discussing days off and determining who'd be working what extra hours to prepare for being away from the office?

Whatever the case, it's clear that he's always--ALWAYS--listening and learning. That's both encouraging and scary.