Seven is Great

Now hold on a minute...I just read the title to this post.

No, I'm not announcing another little one. Thought I'd better clear that one up right off the top! Six little (or not so little) people running around this home, graying my hair and messing with my brain is plenty, thank you.

But, to explain the title--

I love the age of seven.

It's still innocent, but gets the jokes that flew right over the head last year. It still is the age for snuggling, but also likes some independence. Especially in the bathroom. (hallelujah!) It's reading, writing, but still making those cute little spelling errors that seem to define first grade. It's losing teeth, and believing in the tooth fairy.

And all these things seem to be bubbling over in my Joshua.

I was in his bedroom last night, tucking him in and hanging out for a few minutes, when this conversation took place:

He: "Mom, what's 2 twenty-fours?"

Me: "Forty-eight."

He: "Cool. So two days have forty-eight hours!"

Me: "That's right."

He: "So, how many hours are in three days?"

Me: "Seventy-two."

He: "Four days?"

Me: (Having to pause slightly) "Ninety-six."

He: "Five days?"

Me: (Another pause) "One hundred and twenty."

He: "Wow! So you must truly be a wonder-mom!"

See what I mean? At seven, being able to multiply twenty-four by five is miraculous! And it means you have been granted super powers.

I wish this attitude would last forever, but I know that it's fleeting.

Just like seven.