Gospel Q&A with Smith

Smith's primary teacher found me after church one day and told me about the answers Smith gave that day in class. (Before I continue, let me just say that this was not the first time this woman has come searching for me. Once, she stopped me after church and said that while the children were trying to practice some songs for the Mother's Day program, Smith decided that he did not want to participate, so he put his fingers in his ears, and began yelling, "LA-LA-LA-LA-LA!!! She wanted me to "address the issue" with my son.) The first three Q&A's were related to me by Smith's primary teacher. The fourth is from something Smith said to Whitley today.

Q: Who lived in the Garden of Eden?
A: My dad and Eve.

Q: Who did Noah bring on the Ark?
A: All kinds of animals, and two Santa Clauses.

Q: Who gave you your body?
A: Not Jesus. It wasn't Jesus.

Q: What is your favorite primary song?
A: "I Am a Giant of God"

A New Low

A while back, we were driving to a favorite restaurant, when we passed a Ford dealership. Smith saw the Ford insignia and said, "Dad, there is American Idol!" Oh, the shame.

I promise we don't watch that show . . . much.

Steel Trap

On Saturday, Smith and I were at Sports Clips to get him a haircut. The only book they had in the waiting area was a Sports Illustrated NFL 50th Anniversary picture book. We opened it up to a picture of Peyton Manning. Smith saw the helmet and said, "Hey, I know them. It's the horsey team! But I wanted the Bears to win."

In case you forgot, the Colts beat the Bears in Super Bowl XLI, 29 to 17.

Deep Thoughts

This morning, within 15 minutes of waking up, Smith uttered three deep, profound thoughts:

Thought One: "Dad, when we go camping, let's get a tent that has robot fingers and big tires."

Thought Two: While Smith and I sauntered along the sidewalk (yes, we were the first ones at the park that morning at circa 7:15 a.m.), Smith asked, "Dad, what is that!" It was a huge bird poop on the sidewalk. "Bird poop? Wow . . . I love bird poop. . . ."

Thought Three: "Dad, can you lift that tree up over your head? No? Shrek can."

Never Talk to Strangers

We own a children's book entitled, "Never Talk to Strangers." As you would guess, it teaches kids not to talk to, or go with strangers, even if the stranger appears fun or nice, or invites the child to do fun things. I think Smith has learned the letter-but not the spirit-of this lesson.

Friday night we went to a barbecue at a friend's house, located adjacent to a large public park with a playground. At one point, Smith, along with a slew of other kids, went to the playground with the father of our friend. Twenty-or-so minutes later, I realized I hadn't heard Smith's uncanny shrieks and shrills for a while (an unusual occurrence), so I decided to go and check on him. Smith was just fine, and was being pushed in the swing by our friend's father.

When I approached to relieve him, he told me that Smith had gone up to every other parent at the park (there were about 15), tugged on their finger or shorts, and asked, "Can you swing me, or are you a stranger?" According to our friend's father, none of the parents knew how to respond. They said things like, "Where is your mommy?" or, "Well, I am a stranger, but I'm a nice stranger."

I wonder if the children's book, "Never Invite Strangers to Play" has been written yet. . . .

Taking Notes

A while back, I was watching something on tv (probably Sportscenter or MSNBC) and Smith said something like, "Dad, this is a very interesting show. I need to take notes." He went to the kitchen and found a small pocket-sized notebook and pen. He returned to the family room, pushed his red rocking chair up to the coffee table, sat down, opened his book and assumed note-taking position with his pen. He watched the show for a few moments, until something struck him, causing him to put pen to paper and begin writing, carefully and deliberately. As he wrote, he slowly spoke the few letters for which he knows the names: "A . . . E . . . S . . . O . . . S . . . I . . . O . . . M . . . O . . . ." What he produced appears below.

Quel chanteur!

Here is a movie of Smitty showing off his singing skills.

Fertilizer Anyone?

Last weekend, we were in Salt Lake City for a wedding. On Saturday night, one of Whitley's friends invited us, along with a bunch of other people over for a barbecue. There were oodles of kids wriggling around the yard, screaming, shouting, crying, laughing, fighting, etc. At one point, Smith became so overcome with excitement that he had an accident, of the second variety. In other words, he did a little poop in his pants.

Whitley's friend's husband thought of a way to remedy the situation without ruining the fun. He brought out the Super Soaker Water Volcano. The idea is simple: you plug a hose into the volcano, pressure builds and builds as the volcano's eyes get wider and wider, and then, the volcano erupts, blasting water over 15 feet in the air.

Once the Water Volcano was unveiled, it took Smith about two seconds to get completely naked. We dared Smith to sit down on the volcano, which he did, only a little hesitantly. I bet you can imagine the rest. A mutually beneficial outcome resulted: clean bum on the ride home for us, fertilized lawn for them.