Boys...

I always expected that boys might mean any number of things...including who knows what in pockets,etc. The other day, Rory came in the house calling for me,"Come see my little friend".

Uh oh! I went out to the living room and beheld my boy stroking the fur of a ....dead mouse - UGH!

He was surprised at my negative reaction and went to the bathroom to 'clean him' because "then my nice little mousey will be clean like me, not yucky! See, (he raises his shirt) I'm not yucky!"

I didn't want to discourage his kindness to that poor little mousey so I humored him by providing a towel and a little bed for him. But I told him he couldn't keep him because if he was dead he had to go back outside. "Why, Mom?" So I explained that God made us from the dust and when we die our body turns back to dust when it's put in the ground and then we go to heaven where we get brand new bodies someday.

Later I heard him talking to God: "Please look after my nice little mousey" And with that he took him by the tail and tossed him outside.