Cheetah Jet


Our Batman with his Batmobile
 "You know what the fastest jet is?" you asked today to test my knowledge as you finished up your broccoli.

"I don't know," responds my tired mind as I wash the dishes.

"A Cheetah Jet!"

"There is no such thing," I automatically voice, without entertaining your creative logic.

"I'm pretending!" you explain.

"Oh yes, sorry. You are right. A Cheetah Jet!"

Son, please forgive your Mommy, as I often walk around mentally checking off to-do lists, so much so, that I forget to really listen to you. You are imaginative. Creative. And I believe your mind is mathematically inclined. You relish games. You value a good puzzle. You synthesize complex patterns (for a preschooler). You walk around, studying your little fingers and exclaiming, "2 + 5 is 7!"

Sometimes I forget the joy of being a child as I study grocery prices in the flyer or enter digits into our monthly budget or scrub down our kitchen until is sparkles. And you? There you are, positioning your hand in a shape of a jet, puckering your lips to make the "whoosh" sound and flying your make believe toy around our living room.

You make me realize I need to learn more, play more, imagine more. Do you have a Cheetah Jet that I could borrow for a little while? Thanks son, for being you.

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