What else was I supposed to do?
Somewhat inexplicably, I found myself baby-sitting a 3 year old (I believe that was his age) yesterday for about two hours. I laid out a rather loose ship for him to run around with, reigning him only when he had the desire to run into traffic and throw grass at passing cars. It wasn’t the tossing grass that that was the problem, even if that was an escalation of events that I did not really foresee.
I suppose aiming sticks at each other and going “Bang” was a frivolous enough activity. Which roughly explained my role in the scheme of things: shepherd his destruction to benevolence and away from self-destructive tendencies — he is destroying imaginary or lifeless objects as opposed to himself or others, if you will. I gather that is the m.o. such a boy.
Charming was his creation of “trees”. And somewhere after saying “I made a tree” and before saying “I made a tree” there was the “I made a potty”. Which his father will have to deal with shortly, naturally.