If You Give a Six-Year-Old a Camera...

I suppose there's a reason that Hank doesn't like going to bed an hour before Madeleine. No matter how much we assure him there's not, a small part of him must know there's fun to be had downstairs long after he and Elisabeth are asleep.

The other night was no exception.

As usual, Madeleine and I (or sometimes Superdad and Madeleine) read books together.


Out comes Superdad with the camera. Which then prompts this:

"Mom, can I have a turn taking some pictures?"

My book is nearing the end of its climax. Yes, anything you want! Just, please, let me finish my book!

Her finished product is... uh... interesting.


And maybe even a touch embarrassing.


And now my book is over and my memory card is almost full. Time for bed. Good-night, Madeleine.

Four-Year-Old Logic

Act 1

Scene 1

(Hank's bedroom at bedtime. It's dark. Mommy is hiding under Hank's covers, completely hidden. Superdad is escorting Hank to bed. Hank begins to climb in.)

Hank (giggling): Mommy, are you in my bed? Why are you hidden under all my covers? Were you trying to scare me?

Mommy: Yes, Hank, it's me. (Mommy pulls the covers off her head.) How did you know it was me and not a monster?

Hank (in a what-are-you,-stupid? tone of voice): Uh, Mommy, I knew it was you because a monster's feet would have been sticking out on the other end of the bed. You know, because they're bigger than you!

End Scene