Gabe came to me today and wanted me to buy string when I went to the store the next time. He is often asking for some sort of string for something he wants to tie together or to pull something along or to hang over the balcony– so no big deal, right?Ten minutes later or so, Gabe tells me why he wanted the string. He wants to make a tightrope in his room. He informs me very seriously the beanbags should be placed under the tightrope in case he falls off. Later, I hear him talking to Raeleigh in their room saying, “This is my greatest idea! We have to try tightroping because I’ve never done it! Right? Right?”
I skyped Josh the story, he tells me that he thinks a rope would work better about a foot off the ground with a mattress on the ground, instead of the bean bags…
Gabe then comes to me and asks, “Typeroping, tightroping is that what it’s called Mom?” After my reply he says, “Oh, I just sinked.” (meaning think). A few moments later he booms, “This is my finest hour!” I asked him where he was planning on tying the tightrope and he told me from his bed (bunk beds) to the handle on the window. He then asks, “Mom, what does my finest hour mean?”
