A little bit more...
So, most of my best conversations with Ethan take place in the bathroom. We just had a very lengthy conversaton (although "conversation" is rather generous... more like monologue.) It went something like this:
"Mom, do you know how many times I think of my sweet Ellie? She was so sweet. She took care of me when I was a baby tiger. When I was three. What is the smallest part of God's body, is it his pinky? We don't know when we are going to die. I might die when I'm as old as Ellie was. But I might not. But we don't know. But I probably will. Or I probably won't. You member when I went to that bounce house? You know, when I had a picture of Ellie on my back? (A cancer relay we went to not very long ago.) Well, I told this lady all about Ellie. That she was my sister, and she died from cancer. She was the mom of this little boy. I was ten hundred and seventy stronger than him. He was just a little boy. Having that picture of Ellie on my back made me think about Ellie."
Just a snippet from the mind of a five year old boy! (May I just unabashedly admit here that I'm glad I don't live in there? I'm a rather exhausted listening to it from the outside.)