Those who know me on Facebook read this earlier today:
First casualty of the season: Patrick wanted to know what was inside a snow globe, so he whacked it against the wooden back of our Stickley couch. Now he knows.
What I didn’t capture on Facebook was the simple, matter-of-fact conversation I had with Patrick after I cleaned up the water, broken glass, and bits of fake snow from our couch.
Me: Patrick, why did you do that?
Patrick: Because I wanted to see what was inside.
Me: What did you think would happen if you hit it?
Patrick: It would break.
I didn’t really know what to say. Everything unfolded exactly according to Patrick’s plan. He wanted to know what was inside, so he wanted to break the snow globe, so he did. All in a few seconds.
I later tried to explain that I didn’t want him trying anything like that again. Beyond the mess, I told him that broken glass was dangerous, that it could cut him, and it made me scared when I thought of him getting cut. He thought about that for a moment, and then he said, “Like that time I ran out into the street, and the car was coming, and it saw me? Like how you were scared then?” (This particular incident happened months ago.)
“Yes, Patrick, like then.”
I wonder if I’ll ever figure out how his mind works.