You're my master

Joel and I were doing artwork together today. He is innately more gifted and talented than I. In fact, I don't believe I am gifted in art, but I enjoy practicing and teaching it to children. Joel, on the other hand, could make a career of it when he grows up. We've seen God-given ability in him since he was three.

So, there we were at the table, me with my pastels, he with his pencil. My project was half finished when he started his.

"Mom," he said, matter-of-factly. "You're my master."

I laughed. "What? Your master?"

"Yeh. You taught me how to draw. You're my master."

Interview

Upon waking this morning, I asked Joel a few questions.

Me: How tall am I?
J: Four sixteen . (I am 5'4". Good job.)
Me: What am I good at?
J: Piano and art. But what you're BEST at it is laughing.
Me: What am I bad at?
J: Running. I've never seen you run. (Probably not.)
Me: How do you know I love you?"
J: You snuggle me and you buy me toys for reading 21 books.
Me: If I became famous, what would it be for?
J: Well, if you were skinny, it'd be for a model.
Me: I'm trying to lose weight, Joel. Don't know if I'll ever be skinny.
J: That's okay. I love you just the way you are.


Honestly, I didn't name him for Billy Joel.

Human Nature

Joel was snuggling next to me as I was trying to do my Bible study on the sofa. He had just started his first long chapter book and was rather chatty about it. I engaged him in a brief conversation, but wanted to start (and finish) my study.

He kept talking sweetly, but nonetheless, he was keeping me from concentrating.

"Honey," I said, "I need to have some quiet time now. You can stay here only if you don't talk, okay?"

"But Mom," he replied. "It's human nature to talk."

Rewind Time

Joel: Mom, I wish I could rewind time.
Me: How come?
Joel: Because if I was going to get in trouble, I wouldn't do it.

Red Envelopes

Joel noticed this morning, that on the organ, was Sarah's stack of about 20 red envelopes for the pro-life campaign. He came into the kitchen to tell me.

"That's weird, Mom, "he said, "Out in the living room is a bunch of mail for Barack Obama. All the envelopes are red."

"Oh, yeah, they're to try to get the President to change his mind about abortion."

"Abortion? What's that?" Joel asked.

At the tender age of seven, he needed a soft but direct answer.

"It's killing a baby before it's born."

"But why would someone do that?"

"Different reasons, but mainly because a mother doesn't want the responsibility of her child."

He got quiet, looked tenderly up at me as I unloaded the dishwasher, then said, "But you have responsibility of me, right, Mom?"

"Right, honey," I said, stopping to hug him. "I wanted you so much I could hardly wait to have the responsibility of you."