Wyatt's book is growing. Oh, if that boy could just control his temper and his tongue!
The good news is that I let him exchange part of his sentence-writing sentence for hard labor, in the form of shoveling off the end of the driveway. Hard, heavy rocky dirt has sloughed off the bank and onto the pavement, and he used it to fill in the hole in front of the gate where we removed a stump.
And I have a new paper to add to his file, this one featuring Proverbs 12:18, over and over and over again. And, once more, the last one translated into Wyatt's Unauthorized Pirate Version, which reads,
Reckless words pierce like a cutlass, aye, but the severed tongue of the wise be bringin' healin'.
I'm not sure I should encourage him, but I have to laugh.