Friday, October 10, 2008
Sometimes I just love to drive around in the car with my kids. It's like I'm a voyeur. I cruise around town, periodically looking in my rear view mirror sneaking glances at facial expressions to help add color to their chatter.
A few days ago we were driving by a Burger King and there just so happened to be some graffiti on a brick wall. Jack noticed it first. "Hey look at that. Someone colored on the wall."
"It's not colored, Jack," Megan corrected him. "It is painted. Isn't that right Mom? It's painted not colored, right?"
"Yup," I confirmed. "It is spray paint. That is not good. People should not paint on walls like that. It's naughty."
Jack pondered that. "It looks like crayon to me."
"Yeah," I joked. "And it's purple. Maybe it was Harold and his purple crayon."
Jack laughed at that one. "Harold and his purple crayon," he echoed.
"There's just one thing," Megan chimed in. "It couldn't be Harold. Harold isn't a gangster, Jack."
"What is a gangster?" Jack inquired.
I peeked in my rear view mirror to get a look at Megan's face. As our eyes met, she sighed and whispered, "Mom, he's not old enough to know what a gangster is yet."