Somewhere along the way, Henry has been trained to believe that our Swiffer Sweeper is a sword. Maybe it was me? Probably not. This sounds like something his father would coax him into believing. Whatever. If it gets the kid to clean, then I'm all for it.
So a few nights ago Henry stands in our kitchen with the Swiffer (fun word to say) repeating over and over, "I will push the sword and the sun will come up." He concentrates as he sweeps back and forth. He sounds surprisingly insightful as he says this. He's so serious right now. Maybe there's deeper meaning to his ramblings. Has my son somehow tapped into another level of enlightenment? I begin to think that maybe he's wiser than I give him credit for. After all, he's three and he's already using metaphors. Hello. Sword? Sun? My boy is brilliant.
He glances in my direction and catches me watching him. "What?" he says.
"Nothing, " I reply, smiling at him.
I see him thinking for a brief moment. "Momma, I got something to tell you," he says.
Here it is, I think to myself. My little man is about to drop some sort of, higher level truth bomb my way. He throws down his Swiffer sword and walks over to the kitchen table. He sticks his little chubby finger up his nose, hands the contents over to me and asks, "Can I have chocolate, Momma?"
Not exactly the truth bomb I was hoping for, but it will do for now.