Honestly, I'd Rather Not Say. . .
One day after school this week, my middle son ran out to the yard to check on his sapling. There was nothing left but a small bit of trunk. My youngest squeaked excitedly, "A squirrel ate it!" and proceeded to gnaw on his brother's leg to demonstrate the squirrel's lunching habits. "Oh no!" I exclaimed to my crying son. "Your daddy mowed it!" I was shocked at my husband's oversight, but I should have kept my revelation to myself. My words made the tears come even harder. Why had I not just gone along with the squirrel idea? It would have been so much easier had I let him imagine giant squirrels gnawing down the young tree. Often my honesty wearies me. Today I took my boys to the park--it was a gloriously beautiful bright azure sky and cool Spring breeze kind of day. We had pizza, Gatorade and Capri Suns and met some friends, and the little boys had a blast ( one thousand gift #67: having fun at the park under the best of...