Mind of a 4 Year Old

"Look! I can pop out my tummy like Grandpa Sturge!"

These were the words that poured out of our four-year-old's mouth one evening. I had to get my camera and take a picture. It's a pretty good likeness.

**Benen: "Know who keeps me safe in jail? God." People, what am I supposed to say to that?

**Benen: "I still love ya mom. Even when you give me trouble." Yes, well.

**Benen (speaking to his auntie): "You know, October 16 is a long ways away." Someone's a little jealous of his brothers' February birthdays.

**Benen: "You ever have snow fall on you?"

This kid is truly, down-to-the-core hysterical. I'm talking FUN-NY. In a single day he can bring me tears of frustration, tears of joy and tears of laughter. Several times over. Seriously, the things that pop out of his mouth are just too much.

He's also too charming by half. This causes serious problems. He flashes those big eyes at me, says he loves me and suddenly I go from nearly tearing my hair out to wanting to lay the world at his feet. One Sunday school worker put it nicely. "You know he's gonna get through life by using those eyes."

Huh. You don't say.

Here's a prime example. We were at music lessons Monday morning and Benen was having a hard time sitting still. More specifically, he was climbing on my back. Over and over. He had exhausted his "three warnings" many times over. I had warned that there would be no candy from Grandpa's work (which happens to be across the parking lot) after lessons if he didn't sit still. He would look at me in all sincerity and say, "Okay, mom. I'll sit still. I promise."

And that would last for about one minute.

By the end of the hour, after trying to help my two kids while keeping up with all the other mother's with only one child, I was understandably frustrated and tired. I piled the boys in the van and drove the fifteen feet to a closer parking space. Yes, I really did.

We went into my dad's shop and the boys did their usual run down of their lesson, telling Grandpa what they had learned. Okay, Connor told Grandpa what he learned while Benen repeatedly chirped, "can I have candy now?"

Still tightly wound after an hour of slow torture ... er, music lessons, and after the third time he begged for candy, I ground out, "I'm still not sure you're getting any candy. I haven't decided if you deserve it."

My dad looked at me, puzzled. "He wasn't listening during music lessons," I explained.

He looked at Benen. "Were you doing some bad things?"

Benen thought for a minute. "Um, yes."

"Oh. That's not good. Maybe you shouldn't get any candy if you weren't listening."

Benen got all serious, thought for another minute, then turned to look up at me with the most adorably confused and questioning pair of eyes. And I was helpless. "You can only have one piece of candy." As opposed to the two he usually has.

Yeah, I know, not my most stellar parenting moment. But really, if you had been there, you wouldn't have been able to say "no" either.