Here's what it is to have a 6 year old around.
Last night I had just crawled under the covers with a book, when a sleepy, tousled little girl walked into the room and said she was afraid of monsters. I pulled up the quilt to let her climb in and snuggle underneath with me, then turned off the light and tried to quiet her down.
After a little tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable curled up against me, she asked me about "Holy Hells." After a little back and forth, I'm pretty sure she meant "Holy Hill," which is a beautiful Catholic shrine at the top of a big hill, not too far from where we live. We talked about going there this Saturday. It's a beautiful place to visit in Fall.
That got her to wondering why we go to church on Sundays, but Jewish people go on Saturday, and why they're called Jewish, and what they believe. So I explained as best I could, and we drifted into a brief consideration of the triune god.
And then she fell asleep, breathing deeply, her head on my shoulder. In ten minutes, we dealt with make-believe, a misunderstanding, and some very large, important ideas. And that's what it's like having a six-year-old around.
