As I was standing around fixing things — on average, I fix a toy per day; the washing machine makes a good workbench — Aiden brought his dinosaur flashlight to me.
"Daddy, can you fix my dinosaur flashlight?"
It's a wonderful flashlight; it roars when you turn it on, and it's constructed in such a way that a kid can't disassemble it — a fact that has occasionally made it the only working flashlight in the house. It just needed new batteries, but I didn't have any in the right size.
"I'm sorry Aiden, I don't have what I need to fix your flashlight right now."
"What do you need?"
"Two C-cells."
"There's some in the fishtank."
"There are batteries in the fishtank?" I prepared to panic.
"No," said Aiden, with exasperated patience, "there are seashells."
He was so sure he was being helpful, I hated to tell him that I just needed batteries!
3 comments:
Three cheers for Aiden!
Hmmm...flashlight that runs on seashells...that would be an amazing flashlight!
The way children understand the world is really amazing. To a child a battery and a seashell could very well be the same--if his Daddy tells him so.
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