It was just the two of us in the van off to run an errand. It came out of nowhere.
"I hate being three!" Logan said in a tone I rarely hear from him. He was clearly not happy.
"What? Why?" I said, confused as to what sparked his contempt or the need to share it.
"I can't play monkey in the middle. When I'm the monkey, I'm too short to reach the ball," he began to explain. "When I'm not the monkey, I'm too short to throw it over the monkey. I always lose because I'm three."
"Umm, honey. If you play monkey in the middle with other people that are three, you won't be too short."
He sat and pondered that one in silence.
6 comments:
Wow, I could easily get lost in your post. Never heard of Monkey in the Middle but what a sweeetheart you have. Sounds like your Thomas adventure will be even more adventuresome with questionable hotel reservations. These are the things great memories are based on.
Michele sent me and she has impeccable taste. You are certainly a gifted writer.
Well I, for one, remember Monkey in the Middle...always hated that game!
Here via Michele today!
Michele sent me to see you and Logan, Sandy.
You said a mouthful with that post, Sandy. Far too often we get caught up and often get in trouble trying to be something we're not. There are times when you might want to run with the big dogs--or monkeys--but it's not the safe way to live your life. So, I guess it comes down to how much we want safety. In the meantime, that was excellent advice for a 3 year old, Sandy. Good job!
Sandy,
I seem to remember feeling the same way :) -- sounds like a cutie :)
I was a horrible monkey in the middle but loved being on the throwing end!
How cute!
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