Sometimes, when they don't think I'm listening, my boys speak in prose, their words lyrical and poetic rather than the rough, quick banter of small children.
Just last night, as they were dressing after a playful bath during which they pretended the bubbles were snow, their speech morphed back into incredibly esoteric speech that made me giggle.
"The snow is gone, and winter is over.
The cold snow is gone with the water.
And we are not giants anymore.
We used to be huge; we were bigger than skyscrapers and boats,
And the sky,
And the mountains,
And the whole, wide world.
But not God, no-- nothing is bigger than God!
But now the snow is gone and we are small again, and cold.
And my buttcheeks are showing."
Welcome back, boys.
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