Saturday, April 3, 2010

Shhhh. . .I don't want the bug to hear me.

I'm outside with Aaron the other day. He comes to me, whispering "look mom, there's a bee getting nectar from that flower" (wow, didn't even know he knew the word 'nectar').
Me (whispering back), "oh, yeah, it is. Follow me." (we proceed to walk to the backyard to water the garden). Aaron is still whispering, so I'm still whispering too.
Me, "why are we whispering?"
Aaron, "I don't want the bee to hear me."

A couple of days later in the back yard Aaron comes up to me, whispering again, "mom, look there's a bug on my arm." I see what appears to be a microscopic gnat and whisper back, "Yeah, it is. Why are we whispering?" Aaron, "because I don't want the bug to hear me!" Me (both of us still whispering), "oh, okay."

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