When I grow up I want to be a ranger, so I can climb to the tippy top of Mount Rainer whenever I want. Or a Concorde pilot. Or a sewer [meaning a person who sews. It's no stranger than any of the others since none of us mountain climb, fly airplanes, or sew.]

What's a holiday? Is that when you eat challah?

At school today, Eli and I were bad guys. We shot all the girls with woodchips and sand. [Huh, this game none of the girls in the family played. John and I discussed, and I decided not to give a big lecture about shooting. I'm sure the school has an anti-violence policy. As you know, my policy is a bit more laisser faire, so the school can enforce their rules.]

Tell about your day! And then what happened and then and then. [We've created a monster. You know all the books talk about the importance of sharing at the dinner table. We share. We share every minute of everyone's day starting with "First you woke me up at 6:15 and kept kicking me in the stomach when I tried to lie down next to you. . ." David seems to be at the stage where you review today and tomorrow, over and over again.]

David: I'm the Daddy and you are the kid.
Debby: Ok.
David: I'm the grown-up.
Debby: Ok.
David: I don't want to be a grown-up!
Debby: Ok, you don't have to.
David, starting to cry: But I can't stop myself from growing!
Debby: You don't have to be a grown-up.
David: I do! I do!
Debby: Miriam's a lot bigger than you, and she's not a grown-up. Your legs might get bigger, and your nose might get bigger, but you can still be a kid. I will always be your mommy, and you will always be my boy. Do you want me to carry you up to the house little boy?

I'm not sure what was terrifying him. It seems like a completely age appropriate tension--wanting to grow up and not. I'm not sure he got my distinction between getting physically bigger while still retaining your childish spirit. He did like the logic of my always being mommy. I felt privileged to hear what was going on inside his head.