This was this morning's conversation:
"If I want to have a girl, I have to be nice to her," he said.
I laughed.
"Where did you hear that?" I said.
"You."
I laughed some more. I felt like a good mom.
"I wish I could find a genie and get five wishes," he said.
"Why five?"
"Because I don't want three."
I looked at him in the mirror and he was holding up five fingers, counting to himself. It dawned on me then that he had thought up five things he wanted, not three.
"What are your five wishes?" I asked.
"One, when I die I want to be reborn as a baby and have all of my family. Two, I want a light saber. Three, I want all of the toys in the world. Four, I want a thousand dollars. Five, I don't want my frogs to die."
I looked at him in the mirror and wanted those five things for him too.
