Confessions of a Three-Year-Old

It is time again for Confessions of A Three-Year-Old, courtesy of Mary at Notbefore7.com. I'm not sure why there were no confessions last week except that I must have been doing other things.

This week's confessions start with beans. Yes, beans.

During one of our daily family prayer times last week, hubby began praying for a couple he knows from some local missionary work that he did last year. Their last name is "Bean" and apparently without letting Kaydn Rye know who in the heck he was praying for, he started praying for "The Beans." There was nothing extraordinary in that until the following night when he again prayed for "The Beans."

As soon as hubby finished praying, his curiosity must have finally gotten the best of him, and with a very consternated look on his face, Kaydn Rye asked, "Why are we praying for beans?"

I felt like saying something like, "Well, because even vegetables need prayer every once in a while," but I decided against such a smart-alek remark.

And then there was the question about the blinking tower right outside of town. We were driving past the tower the other night, and of course he had to ask me what it's for. I don't know how many times in a day I get asked, "What does that do?" "What's that for?" "Why are you doing that?"

Uffda, it's enough to drive me to crazy town some days.

So with this particular question I just started rambling on about how I didn't know what the tower was for but that it could be this, this or this.

He replied with, "Hmm, interesting," with his finger tapping his chin, like he was really debating all the possibilities for some research paper he's got in the works. Talk about enlightening conversation.

And he apparently had an interesting conversation with one his little preschool friends who made his way over to our house one afternoon last week. He's a little bit older and he balances out my kid's bossiness quite well. Kaydn Rye thinks he's Hitler and instead of getting upset about being a part of Kaydn's little bootcamp, this little boy usually just says, "No problem, buddy," which is definitely a delight until I can break the bossiness out of the kid. Talk about a laid-back kid to balance out my super-anal, OCD, control freak child.

At lunch time, a train went by and Kaydn's little friend is apparently just as into trains as Kaydn is because he jumped off the chair and started looking to see if he could spot the train. The ensuing conversation went something like this:

"I wonder where that train's going?"

"Hmm, maybe Canada, I don't know." says Kaydn Rye, with a furrowed brow and a tilt to his head.

"It could be going to Montana, too," replies his friend.

"Yep, could be." says Kaydn Rye.

I swear I just overheard my grandparents having that exact same conversation at their dinner table the other day.

And today, Kaydn Rye is on my parents' farm until tomorrow so he can spend a little time with them before the cows start calving and things get busy on the farm. Apparently, my little brother asked Kaydn to go sledding, but of course he couldn't do that because it's not safe on the sled. So he just ended up standing on the sled hill while my brother went down. And then my mom asked him if he wanted to go outside again to burn garbage with her (they obviously don't have garbage pick-up in the middle of nowhere), but he couldn't do that because he might burn his finger. He was going to make his way with her to go feed the cats in the barn last I talked to them. When he got there he probably made up some excuse about how my mom would have to hold him because the cats aren't safe. I don't know where he gets this stuff.



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