As we sat together on the big chair, I read him a book. Occasionally, I would look over at him and ask a question about the book or comment on an illustration. After several of these little asides, I noticed that just as soon as I turned my head to talk to him, he would turn his little head and look out the window. I wondered. . .
One or two more of these odd interludes passed and I finally asked him, "Why are you doing that?" He turned his big blue eyes to me and answered, "Mommy, every time I smell that smell from your mouth, my angel dies."
Yes, my child just told me that my coffee laced morning breath could kill angels. Momversation over.
No comments:
Post a Comment