“Did that boy take you to the gym?” I asked my son after I picked him up from play time.
“No, he’s a guy,” my son informed me.
The guy is about 15 years old, I estimated, which is indeed a boy to me. But to a two-year-old, he’s full grown.
This week we have read some “Buster” books. Buster is a dog who labels people by their footwear – Brown Shoes, Red Boots, Pink Slippers – because that is what is at his eye level.
Some days I get so caught up in the here-and-now that I forget what is truly important, what is eternal. On those days my view is too limited. Perhaps I need to become more childlike.