Gunnar got home from AWANA, had a drink of water, and went into the bathroom to do some business. Seemed like he was in there awhile, so I went in to check. He had a funny, distracted look on his face and wanted me to get some paper. (Not toilet paper... he had that.)
Apparently he'd been sitting there on the throne composing a poem that he was anxious to get onto paper before he forgot. Then he suggested I publish it on my blog. Which, being the high-brow type that I am, I might have done, but for the fact that his own blog has been sadly neglected.
Sometimes his deep thoughts amaze me, and other times...
Well, who knew he would be thinking about baby food? And why?
You can read it here, if you're so inclined. As I finished typing it for him, we proof-read it together. He smiled with satisfaction and said, "I like rhymey poetry."
6 comments:
Maybe Gunnar wants a baby brother... hahaha! I love it- especially the use of the word "detest." Wow- he's only eight, right? His vocabulary rocks!
what an excellent rhymey poem Gunnar!
I'll pass your compliments on to Gunnar.
And Leah, he does want a baby brother. He mentions it frequently. I've tried to tell him gently that for that to happen... well, that would definitely be an act of God!
LOL- I remember your story of how you conceived the other three. If it happens, we'll all know it is a miracle! ;-)
No kidding!
I just want you to know that the only thing my kids do in the bathroom is...invent rockets. Just kidding. That is quite the poem. Do you use the word "detest" every day, or did he just pick that up from reading British lit? Just wondering.
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