Thinking

This is Evan laying on my leg at Ramsey park philosophizing about life and death. He's getting to that age when there are questions. He used to start every sentence with "I tink...". Now he says "think". He had a weird conversation with Jo about cremating him the other day that I won't get into. But unlike Vivian he doesn't just go off into the abstract. He's grounded. For instance when a Taylor Swift song was on the radio. She crooned "Band-aids don't fix bullet holes". Evan responded "but they do keep the blood from falling out of your body".

Here is a picture he got back from school the other day.
"Dad - do you like the picture I'm drawing?"
"Do I need to make an appointment for you to see a psychiatrist?"
"You didn't say if you liked it"
"What is it?"
"I was going to color the whole page black but I ran out of time. Do you like it?"

I've got to take the lad down to Houston to see the Rothko Chapel. I tink he'll like it.