Don't Laugh. This Is Serious.

The first impulse we have when we hear our son say something brilliant is to laugh. "It's so cute," we say. Until, at some point, he asks, "Why are you laughing?" and appears to become more insecure about sharing what's on his mind. My wife explained, "We shouldn't laugh, because we don't want him to think we don't take him seriously." At dinner tonight our son surprised a friend who asked him about a toy he was playing with. She asked, "What is that?" He replied, "A sea snake." "What kind of sea snake?" she responded. "Well," he answered, "it's either a banded rock sea krait or a yellow bellied sea snake." Surprised, she said, "Aren't you four years old?" "Yes," she said. Then our friend, a pre-school teacher, said, "You should teach pre-school." Throughout this conversation, I wanted to laugh when matter-of-factness when providing such a sophisticated answer took her by surprise, because it was cute. I realized how much that would have embarrassed him in a conversation with another adult. He obviously can talk the talk with adults in so many areas, and I want him to feel comfortable doing so. In his mind he isn't just a cute little boy anymore--although that is a stage we don't want to rush through--he is an intelligent big boy, and an authority of sorts on snakes, a herpetologist in the making. And why not encourage that confidence? So, no laughs from me tonight. Instead, I just sat back and observed with obvious pride beaming from my face.