I've made a habit of quipping that by the the time Benjamin is 10, he'll be so exasperated with the forgetful, feeble minds of his parents that he'll merely be tolerating us (hopefully with a little affection). Perhaps I was being a little optimistic to estimate the onset of this sad state of affairs at age 10.
One day recently (during our regional deep freeze), Benjamin and my wife went out to do some errands. Just before they left, Benjamin had found his little umbrella somewhere and was playing with it. He decided to take it along. He said he was bringing it to protect himself from the wind. My wife told him that was a good idea. She went even further, offering the general compliment, "You come up with a lot of good ideas!" (When you're conversing all adultlike with a four-year-old, however, you don't always get the return you expect.)
Benjamin accepted the compliment without modesty, "Yeah, I do." He then sighed and said to my wife, "I wish you did."
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