-Bob Dylan
Weather is putting the finishing touches on its portrait of autumn and changing the canvas to begin painting the dreariness of winter over the past week in Murfreesboro. We have gone through 3 stages of weather since I woke up for work this morning- cool and sunny turned to misty and breezy this afternoon, which has evolved into pouring rain and heavy winds into the night. This evening, the winds have been swirling around with thoughts of turning over trash cans at every home. Sting's lyric explains it best on a night like tonight: The hounds of winter are howling in the wind. Howling is a great use of personification for the wind. As hard as it is blowing tonight, it moans through each small crack between the windows and doorframes.
Gabe and I were having a lot of fun tonight catching up on some of what is turning out to be one of his favorite new shows: Mythbusters. The wacky things these guys do make him laugh and we make bets before we watch the experiments as to weather the myth will be confirmed, plausible or "busted." Later, we watched Clash of the Dinosaurs, which is a new documentary series that explains the design of different dinosaurs from physical and mental aspects. Finally, it was bedtime, which is when the winds started howling the most.
It was quite blustery as Gabe laid down for bed. I turned on his iPod and set his playlist entitled, "Sleeptime III," and Ringo Starr begins to croon (as much as he could), "Good Night." Gabe starts to worry about the noise and begins to feel a bit scared of sleeping amongst the noise beyond the walls. Trying to ease his mind and help him rest for the night, I tell him the same story he has heard dozens of times in the past: The Three Little Pigs. At the end of the story, we both come to the conclusion that the only house the wolf did not blow over was the one built with bricks. Since our house was made with bricks, our house will not fall down either.
This is truly the first moment in his life in which he has shown the dichotomy between the his amazing intellect and reasoning and immediately thereafter, showing childlike naivety which steals your heart.
After hearing the story and realizing our house was made of bricks, the paused for a moment and remarked, "but Mom's house is made of wood..." After calming his restless energy, I went back into the room to let him know I was taking down the welcome flag on near the porch, only to hear him whimpering. I asked him if he's okay and with tears in his eyes, he says that he was praying for all the non-brick houses, "so they don't fall down." Putting him to bed once more, he asks, "Our house won't fall down because of the bricks, but what about the windows, since they are glass?" I was completely dumbfounded. I simply had no more answers for him tonight. He then said the most adorable thing of the past several months: "Hey, Dad. The glass won't break because the blinds will protect it, right?" All I could do is smile, kiss his head, and tell him is is absolutely right.
What a great evening, which I owe to my son. Evenings like these make the irritations and monotony of the day's events worthwhile.
