A day in the life of a four year old.

We headed to the mall this afternoon to pick up a few things, including dinner. As I was trying to convince Gavin that Chick-Fil-A was waaaay better than a hot dog from Orange Julius, I saw him. A guy with one leg making his way right for us. And I knew Gavin saw him as well. It was too late to divert the situation, so I pulled over and reminded him that it's not polite to stare and that we could talk about it when we got home. Knowing his track record (Asking the very large woman behind us at the grocery store"When is the baby coming to YOUR house?"), I thought we did well. No sooner did we get to the table when Gavin asked me, "Mom, how did that man lose his leg?" I could see that it was really troubling him and so I said, "Oh I don't know. Maybe he got into an accident or maybe he was born with just one leg." To that he [quickly] replied, "Or maybe an alligator got it." My tongue has welts from biting so hard. "Maybe," I said.

I thought we were done.

We all inhaled our food and I turned to rush my Gav along when he looked very sad and sombre. "What's wrong?" I asked. "I really feel sad for that guy with just one leg," he said. We continued to talk about how Heavenly Father loves that man just as much as he loves Gavin. And that even though he looked a little different, he could still be our friend. I even told him that maybe he lost his leg doing something brave, like saving a little baby from a fire or something. That seemed to perk him up a bit, and he finished his dinner.

I thought we were done.

Bed time. Gavin begins his prayers by saying, "Please help me to always have both my legs". The holes in my tongue were now bleeding.

And I thought a three year old was fun.