Oh, to have the energy of a six-year-old when I don’t feel my best!

Kalen has a stinker of a head cold.  Sleep last night was intermittent, and given the paranoia reasonable concern about germs these days, we decided a day home was probably best for everyone involved.  The kids at school would have less exposure to the nastiness Kalen’s carrying, and he would have less exposure to potentially worse viruses while his immune system is run down.  Win-win.

Today has reminded me a lot of when he was in preschool.  Cuddle time on the couch, PB&J’s in front of a movie (old-school Pooh Bear, complete with blustery days and little black rain clouds!), and coloring.

There is one notable difference between four-year-old Kalen and six-year-old Kalen when it comes to coloring, however.  The stories…the really, really destructive nature of them, to be exact.  I was just treated to an hour-long (at least it felt that way – perhaps it was only about five minutes) explanation of certain “Vulture droids”* in various stages of exploding.  Pre-explosion, impact of missiles and other droids/ships/somethings, actual explosion and/or crashing into what I observed to be a flame-engulfed planetoid of some sort.

kalenvulture

He didn’t start the explanation in a seated position…this was only after a lengthy dancing/jumping/arm-waving speech that had me nodding and “uh-huh-ing” in a confused, sort-of-listening manner.  (I’m sorry, after a while, I just have to tune it out.)  Once I pulled him in for a hug and explained that perhaps Daddy would find this much more comprehensible, after all, he’s the Mythbusters-style explosions addict, the Vulture Droid Annihilator gave me the same sort of “uh-huh” before settling into the chair to expound a bit more.  Touché, kiddo.

Incidentally, it was the bottom center photo that clued me into what he really needed, besides a semi-listening ear and a hug or two.  Another difference between four-year-old and six-year-old Kalen: he now understands it when I explain the need for nap time when he’s sick.

*And with this, we have proof that the boys’ Star Wars knowledge has officially surpassed my own.  Sigh.

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