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.