This was taken on New Year's Eve on our way to a birthday party for a stuffed animal. (She looks SO much like Shaun's sister, Kelly, in this picture that it's downright freaky.)

After the aforementioned party, we stopped by the grocery store so I could run in for a few things. Evan had a near melt-down in the car while I was gone, worrying about what dreadful and unknown thing might happen to me. (I'm not sure if I've told you about this phase yet... the "aware of the reality of evil in the world" stage. NOT my favorite of the phases, suffice it to say.) And when I get back, he's all, "I thought something was gonna happen to you... I thought a bad guy was gonna get you... what would you do if a bad guy tried to get you, mommy?" Not at ALL disconcerting coming out of the mouth of your just-turned five-year-old.

Usually, I try to tell him that Jesus is with me and I can call on His help whenever I need Him... or that he needs to choose not to think about these bad thoughts; to fix his mind on whatever is "good and pure," (as we mothers tell ourselves quite often.) But after a few months of this phase, I decided a fresh approach was in order that night. Enough of the niceties. Enough of the "think of a happy place" talks.

"Evan, you don't have to worry about me. Mommy is TOUGH. I could SO beat up any bad guy I wanted to. I'm strong."

"What would you do to them?"

"I would hit them and punch them and bite and poke and scratch and throw them on the ground."

"Then would you run away?"

"I wouldn't have to run away. They'd be sooo hurt they wouldn't be able to get off the ground."

"Would they be dead?"

"I don't know, what do you think?"

"I think they'd be dead. And then the police would come and put them in jail."

Now we were getting somewhere. (We didn't bother to explain that there isn't a huge pile of criminal corpses piling up in the county jail, that was beside the point.)

"I would beat them up, too, mommy," he said.

"Sure, you could beat them up," Shaun said.

"And me, too!" squealed Madalyn, not at all worried, but thrilled with the hypothetical opportunity to pound on someone.

"I would poke them in the eye," Evan said.

"That's a great thing to do," I said, before giving him a few more ideas of how to lethally attack a person.

"I would poke their eyes out," squealed Madalyn, "I would cut their hands off and throw them in the trash can!" she said, now on a roll.

Shaun and I bulged our eyes at each other while "calmly" agreeing sure, why not, but simultanesouly thinking, 'how long before this one's on medication?'

The next morning, Madalyn and Evan colored in his room for awhile. Then, she presented me with this picture:

I said, "Oh good job, is this Veggie Tales or something?"

"No, this is mommy beating up the bad guys." Here is a diagram as it was explained to me:

Labels: dumbhead parenting, Madalyn, phases