Turning Gears

Today after I picked Kiernan up from school I let him play for an extra half-hour because his mom needed a little time at home. We worked on his room this weekend setting up some new shelves, and she wanted to surprise him with the finished product. So I let him play and then we headed over to Trader Joe's to get a few staples.

Once at the store I told him he could bring in a book if he wanted to. He didn't respond, so I repeated myself.

"You can bring in a book if you like. Or two."

"Nah. I just want to think."

Sometimes I look at him in the back seat and see him staring off into the distance. I'll ask if he's okay and he'll affirm that he is. He's just thinking. I find this fascinating. My little Einstein. New theories to explain our existence are percolating in there, I'm sure of it.

Fast-forward to dinner. Wendy was out for a birthday dinner with Renee, so it was a boys' night. We did a little homework and talked a bit about the school day, just enjoying each other's company. We fell into silence as Kiernan read one of his Bionicle chapter books and I wrote in my journal.  Reading is permitted if it's only two people at the dinner table.

Suddenly Kiernan burst out with a statement.

"You know that Calvin & Hobbes where Calvin says 'What's the difference between a garden slug and a two-inch long, living booger?'"

I'm surprised I don't have whiplash from the way I had jerked my head back and forth in reaction.

"What?"

He repeated the question. Keep in mind, this came out of nowhere. Out of a delightful silence in which we were reading and quietly enjoying dinner. He was not reading a Calvin & Hobbes book at the time and frankly I can't remember the last time he was reading one. It was not a gentle observation either. It came out in full-bore excitement. That is to say, loudly.

"Um..." was my next response.

"Well," he continued. "I thought of a difference! A garden slug has two eyes up here." He gestured to the back of his head. "And a booger doesn't!"

Ah. Good point, my little Einstein.