I know I just shared a post about my son the other day, but I have to share the conversation we had on Tuesday tonight while on the way to my daughter’s private trombone lesson.
Son: “Mom, you know you shouldn’t litter. If you do you’ll go to the place where they arrest people.”
Me: “You mean a jail?”
Blake: “Yes. That’s why you shouldn’t litter.”
Me: “What are you talking about, Blake?” (I don’t litter, so I had no idea what he was referring to.”
Blake: “Well, you know the other day when you had kitty litter on the stairs? That was littering.”
I took me a few to figure out what he was talking about but I finally got it. The other day I used kitty litter to clean up some lamp oil I had spilled on the basement floor. He saw us clean it up.
I’m thinking he doesn’t quite understands what littering actually is. And I didn’t take the time to explain it to him at that moment because I was too busy appreciating the way his six-year-old mind works. Oh, to be that young again! I have since tried to explain it to him, but he swears I’m wrong and he’s right.