I did not allow my son Dylan to watch his favorite TV shows for a few hours today and naturally he grumbled about not having anything to do. I was not swayed, however, and after a few minutes sulking he came to sit beside me outside, under the mango tree that grows in front of our house.
He talked about some crazy things (mostly about stuff he watched) that I half-listened to because I was sleepy from the noontime heat. Then we talked about what he should do when his younger brother Lennon grabs his (Dylan's) toys. Or when Lennon is in one of his tantrums. I told him he should be more patient and not raise his voice at Lennon even when his brother is at his most difficult.
Later, he told me he had composed several songs and he was singing them to me. He belched out songs that I knew he made up just then, lines like "raindrops, raindrops...they fall from the clouds...like ice pops" or "small, big, biggest...a mouse is small, a dog big, and an elephant the biggest" and a really long one about how you can't do anything when you ride in a sports car. (We don't have a sports car so I'm also wondering where he gets these ideas.)
I regretted not having been able to take his picture, though, while he was screeching at the top of his lungs in his best approximation of singing.