Caedmon asked, "Why does that lady have a pencil in her mouth?" to which Atticus quickly corrected, "That's not a pencil, it's a stick. Mom, what's that lady doing with that stick?"
I tried to explain cigarettes and why people smoke them while stressing how unhealthy they are and the physical repercussions that come from smoking, then tried to answer difficult questions like "But then why do people smoke cigarettes? Why do they want to die?" I found I'm pretty terrible at describing things like addiction and denial, at least to a three- and a five-year old.
A couple days later Cade and I were making a visit to the library when he announced to one of the employees there that "My Dad likes to smoke!"
I was a little baffled and said, "Caedmon, your daddy doesn't smoke!"
The employee gave an uncomfortable laugh while our son rounded on me and protested, "YES, HE DOES! Daddy likes to smoke all the time!"
This kid does this to me constantly. When we're in public he'll announce things like "My mom hit me this morning. In the head. Right here. She did it yesterday, too," and what the listening strangers don't know is that yes, I accidentally him in the head with a loaf of bread because the child is constantly underfoot in the kitchen. I'm left to stammer pathetic-sounding explanations and forcing a laugh while these would-be child saviors eye me suspiciously.
At least Caedmon chose to (eventually) clarify when we were at the library: "Remember, Mommy? Daddy smokes hot dogs and pork chops for us!"
He also likes to tell people things like, "My mommy is the nicest mommy in the whoooole world," which would make me swell with pride, but I know what's coming: "...except when I'm naughty, then I run away and hide because I'm scared."
I don't know why he wants to be taken from us.