On Friday it was in the 50s with a very stiff wind. While driving around Sam noticed the ripples on the puddles and commented philosophically, "A puddle is an ocean to a germ." When I mentioned this to him this morning he added, "And the ripples are waves."
Maybe February makes him contemplative; the other day he said, his eyes on the horizon, "I have had five years on this year." Susan asked him if he knew how long Mommy had been on this earth. First he guess eighteen, then he guessed 1,000.
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