The world according to Jack

I love my conversations with Jack.  I love hearing his thoughts and his take on the world.  As you would expect, he frequently makes me laugh.

A few days ago, Violet did something where she hurt herself.  I can't remember what exactly, she probably just tripped or something.  She has always just been an easygoing child, not fazed by much.  She took whatever this was in stride, barely crying, if she did at all.  Jack was suitably impressed.

"Wow, she's so brave! She didn't even cry!" he said.

"Yeah, she's pretty tough," I said.

"What about me?" he asked.  "Am I tough?"

"Ummm," I sort of hedged.  "You're tough in different ways."

"How am I tough?" he persisted.

"Well, when there is something that makes you nervous, you're tough because usually you just go ahead and do it anyway," I said.  "That always makes me so proud."

"Yeah!" Jack said.  "How is Violet tough?"

"Well, she doesn't really cry about much at all," I said.

"I cry sometimes," Jack said solemnly.  "Like when I'm hurt."

"Yes, you do," I agreed.

"Does Violet cry when she's hurt?"

"Ummmm, well, I think she tends to get over it a little more quickly than you do," I tried to say diplomatically.

Obviously, this gave Jack quite a bit of food for thought.  He came back to me several days after this conversation.

"You know how I cry a lot and Violet doesn't, Mom?" he asked.

"Um, yeah?" I said cautiously.

"It's because when she bothers me, she really hurts me!  But when I bother her, I am so gentle."

"Oh, is that it?" I asked, amused.

"Yeah!" he said earnestly.

Okay.

Yesterday, on the way to school, we were just chatting, and I used the word "frequently."  I've used it with him before, and he always asks me what it means.  Yesterday was no exception.

"Jack!" I said, exasperated.  "Why do you always ask me what it means? Why should I bother telling you if you're just going to forget it again?"

"Well, why do you always use that word around me if you know I'm not going to remember what it means?" he retorted.

Ha, good point.

I told him again what it meant and this time used it in a sentence: "I frequently have to tell you what 'frequently' means."

He laughed.  We'll see if it sticks this time.

And then tonight, right before bed, he asked me, "Mom, were you born in China?"

"No, I was born here in the United States," I said.

"But, Mom, I saw pictures of you when you were a little girl, when you were in Ammah's house, and you looked like a Chinese person."

"I am a Chinese person, Jack," I told him, trying to smother a chuckle.

"What about me?" he asked.  "Am I Chinese?"

"You're half-Chinese," I said.

"But, Mom, if you're Chinese and I'm only half-Chinese, why do I know more Mandarin than you?

Good question, Jack.  I will refer you to your grandparents for the answer to that one.