Little Guy tells me he is Hannah, and puts the sword of
the spirit (from his hand-me-down toy armor set) in my insulated lunch bag and carries it off as
his french horn, waving to me over his shoulder, and calling out, "Have
a great time!" I tell him to have a great time at school, but he tells
me he's going to a concert.
He sits on the couch quietly, holding his french horn, and after a few minutes, claps excitedly, and says, "Great job, Esther!"
Then
he gets up from the couch (his seat in the auditorium, I can only
presume), and walks a few feet forward to begin his (Hannah's) part of
the concert.
But before he can start playing his french
horn, he sees a book sitting on the couch, and calls out, "My pigs!" and
runs to the couch and flips through, "If you give a pig a pancake,"
while narrrating many of the steps a pig farmer takes in caring for his
pigs, until that gets old, and he rushes back to take the stage with his
french horn bag.
But, all of a sudden, the act of pulling
the french horn out of the bag reminds him of summer reading program at
the library this year, when the guest, a naturalist, pulled a skunk out
of a bag, so he comes running, full-speed across the living room and
kitchen and shows me his outstretched hand. "Do you know what this is?"
he asks excitedly. "A kuk!" "A duck?" "No! A kuk!" "Oh! A skunk!"
And on the morning goes. ... About as unpredictable as the election. :)
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