Isaac cut into a colorful pile of playdough cake he was making me for my birthday. He pointed at a red spot. "This is the pit of the cake mommy." Then there was a long pause, "The thing about cakes is," he continued, looking up and into my eyes, "That some cakes have pits, and some do not."
Later that evening, he asked me, "What day was I born?" I answered, "You were born September 10th." His eyes got really big. "Same day as my birthday!"
The checkout lady at the food coop asked Isaac how old he was. With a huge smile and his messy haired head thrown back, Isaac shouted, "I'm 10 o'clock!"
He is SO wise!
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