Its a communication thing ...

Twice in the past week I fear that I have broken my three-year-old son's heart and given him reason to think his Dad is not worth trusting.

Last Saturday, I gave him a glass of milk (he prefers water or juice) and told him that if he drinks milk he will grow "big and strong" like Daddy. Something took my attention and I left the kitchen and came back to find my wife explaining that he "won't get bigger right away!" See, after my son had chugged all but the bottom of the cup, he had turned to my wife and, in a confused voice, exclaimed "Mama, I'm still little!?" After she figured out what he was talking about, she explained to him that he would get bigger slowly over the next several years. My son, who still trusted me at that point, responded by trying to convince her that she was mistaken: "No, I'll get big like Daddy once I drink it all," and he proceeded to finish off the last little bit. Obviously, he was disappointed.

However, apparently that wasn't enough to make him lose all faith in his Daddy ... but I'll teach him! We found a lost cat in our back yard on Sunday night and put it in the garage until we could locate her home. It took the next day to track down her owner, and we still had her when I got home from work on Monday and sat down to dinner. Knowing that my son loves animals (even cats), I exclaimed to him that there was a "kitty cat" in the garage, expecting him to get excited and start talking about her. However, much to my surprise, he turned toward me and said "Can we eat it?" I was a little stunned, and my mind was trying to figure out where on earth this idea came from. After a little back and forth (i.e. Daddy: "What did you say?" Son: "Can we eat it?" Daddy: "Ummmm ...") , I remembered that the week before we had been at Great-Grandma's house and Great-Grandma's house is just what you think of when you think of a "Great" Grandma - she has lots and lots of treats. One of the treats she had was a Kit-Kat bar, which my son took to calling a Kitty-Kat. Ahhh ... now I understand ... he thinks I have a Kit-Kat bar in the garage. Once again, I have to explain myself.

At least these little episodes are entertaining, they might be all I have when my son just stops talking to me.