“Griffin, do you think that’s a good idea?”

“No, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

“Hey Griffin, what do you want to be for Halloween this year?”

“A rain barrel!”

“Mama, I have all these songs in my body and I’m tryin’ to decide which one you can hear!”

“Mama, I want to fetch a pail of water for the garden.”

“I will bring my scooter outside and then people will hear it going “ba-bump, ba-bump” because there are cracks and then they will play with me. Maybe Bud or Betty will come out!” (Bud and Betty are our 80 year old neighbors)

G: “I’m still a little bit sad.”
Me: “Oh, yeah? Why?”
G: “I’m still sad from yesterday.”
Me: “What made you sad yesterday?”
G: “You were loud with me.”
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry that’s still making you sad. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
G: “No. Don’t worry. My sadness will go away soon.”
Me: <heart aching>

As I was finishing my lunch in the dining room, I suddenly realized there was silence coming from the basement when just a few moments earlier there had been rambunctious banging of “music” wafting up the stairs. Wondering which object I would find flushed down the toilet this time (and when exactly I would learn not to leave him alone in the basement), I rushed down the stairs saying, “Griffin! What are you up to?” Imagine my surprise when I came upon Griffin unloading the dry clothes from the dryer and loading the wet ones from the washing machine.

“Wow, buddy! What a helper you are!” I said as I marveled at how big and responsible he was getting.

“Yeah, Mama! Hey, remember that time I pooped on the rug and in my underwear?”

Ah, yes. You are still three.

On the highway to Duluth, passing through a forest: “Mommy, Daddy, are the trees for decoration?”

After nearly four hours at the park with two playgrounds, a pool, and friends, we return home and Griffin immediately says, “Momma, will you play with me?”

“No, sweetie, I have to make lunch.”

“Well, then who will play with me???”