Ah Yes. To Be Eight Again.

In the car today running errands, Max and Wild Thing were discussing the finer points of burps. They agreed that they had both had burps that, when they happened, tasted. "Yeah," said Max, "like when I have donut! Sometimes later I burp and it tastes like the donut." Then, a split second later and with a wistful smile in his voice he said, "Extra for me."

Later we were getting lunch and Hilary Duff's song The Beat of My Heart came on the radio. Max started singing! I'm used to Wild Thing belting out a few tunes and even making some up, but Max does. not. sing. EVER. So I look back and smile at him. I have all the warm fuzzies you can imagine. He's really singing! Then he sings a little louder and I can hear what he's saying: The beat of my fart. He dissolves into 8-year-old laughter. I've been had again.