Little Red Corvette

If you read this blog often you know that many of my great conversations with Sam take place in the car to and from school. Some may think that is unfortunate. I think it is reality. If God gives you lemons ...

Sam initiated the conversation last night, after a quiet start.

"You should drive a red car."

"I used to drive a red car, before you were born."

"Where was I?"

I was stumped. In my belly was both wrong (this was three years before he was born) and could require an elaborate explanation. In heaven? Too creepy. A twinkle in Daddy's eye. Cheeky but carried the risk/reward of Sam repeating it somewhere. Somewhere inappropriate was most likely.

"I was in your heart," he suggested.

"Yes, that's right. You were in my heart."

"What about Jakey?"

"He was in my heart, too."

"The both of us can't fit in there."

"Yes, you can. My heart is very big."

"I want to be in Daddy's heart."

"Why don't you want to be in Mommy's heart?" I asked, hoping for a revealing answer.

"You should drive a red car," he offered.