Thursday, February 28, 2013

I understand nothing about children.

Owen put his boots on today.  However, unlike the last one hundred and one-eighty-one times, he did not put them on the wrong feet.

"Wook mom!  I put my boots on the right feet!"

"Wow!  You sure did!  Great job Owen!  I'm so proud of you!"  And I'm thinking to myself, "Well that's great.  I was kind of wondering if his brain was backwards there.  But now he knows how to put his boots on!"



"Owen, how do you know that your boots are on the right feet?"

"Because dey are."

"Well, yes.  They are, but how do you know?  Did someone teach you?"

"No.  I just know da rwight foot."

"But . . . if you knew the right foot . . . why were you putting them on the wrong feet all this time?"

"I don't know.  Like a joke, maybe?"

And every time since that morning, he has put his boots on the right feet.  Unlike before, when he was putting his boots on the wrong feet Every.  Blessed.  Time.

So I don't understand what happened there.

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