lonely wolf

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I am constantly amazed by a child's capacity for language acquisition. Joe has always been a super verbal kiddo. He loves to learn new words and expressions. (Remember this?) He doesn't just absorb them either; he thinks about them; asks about them; wants to understand them. Alas, he is still three ... and inevitability gets some mixed up.

Case in point:

A few weeks ago at dinner (as Will dropped food on the dog and Joe repeatedly poked his with a fork), Mr. Howell and I were chatting about something or other and he used the phrase "lone wolf." Joe's ears (naturally) perked up at the mention of wolves ... and so began the long process of explaining the expression to him. I thought Mr. Howell did a great job... very patient and clear. And that was that.

Cut to yesterday afternoon.

Joe and I have been listening to a lot of Ray LaMontagne in the car lately. It's great quiet(ish) mellow(ish) music and perfect for playing the "how do you think this guy felt when he wrote this song?" game with your curious preschooler. (Plus it's a bonus that the curious preschooler stops talking long enough to listen to the music.) Our current favorite is Hold You In My Arms. We listened to it twice yesterday and as I cut the engine and turned to face my quiet son in the backseat, he said this:

This singer Ray is kind of a lonely wolf mama.

Lonely wolf. I like that. I think that expression should change.

olive juice, okay?

emily