As my son’s godmother recently pointed out, this sweet young boy – as innocent as he appears (and is) – has a bit of a dark side, as demonstrated by this recent artistic endeavor.

Recently, our friends bought four chicks and my youngest has enjoyed holding them and watching them grow and change.  Or so I thought, until today.

B: “Mama, do you know what this is?”

Me: “Hmmm…a hurricane?”

B: “No.  It’s a chick.  A dying chick.”

Too many violent cartoons?  Or working through a latent fear of his own fragile vulnerability?  Either way, dark side.