This afternoon the kids and I were cleaning upstairs. That is to say, I was putting things away, and they were taking them out again. That's how we roll. WeeBee popped out from underneath the blanket on his bed, and had the following conversation:
WeeBee: Um...excuse me, Mommy.
Mommy: Yes?
WeeBee: I'm a pirate!
Mommy: Umm...really?
WeeBee: (bouncing up and down) Yes!
Mommy: That's nice.
WeeBee: I have a pirate broakt.
Mommy: What?
WeeBee: I have a pirate broakt.
Mommy: A boat?
WeeBee: Noooo. A book!
Mommy: Ahh. What book?
WeeBee: You knowwwww.
Mommy: WeeBee, what are you talking about? You don't have a pirate book.
WeeBee: (hops off bed and pulls a picture book about St. Brendan off the bookshelf) See! This book!
Mommy: Ohh. WeeBee, St. Brendan wasn't a pirate.
WeeBee: Yes!
Mommy: No, sweetie, he wasn't.
WeeBee: He had a boat.
Mommy: Yes.
WeeBee: It went in the water.
Mommy: Well, yes.
WeeBee: Up and down?
Mommy: Well, yeah, I guess so.
WeeBee: He was a pirate!
Eventually he let the matter drop. The implication was clearly, "Yeah, Mom, you believe what you want. He was a pirate."
I could always tell you were as smart as paint!
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