A Whale Named Heaven

I've been busy. Over the course of the last two weeks I've been so busy that I accidentally aged too much and now I'm forty-two. That's sixteen years in two weeks, people! Help me. Things don't seem like they're going to quiet down anytime soon, either.

I'm not too busy to hear the four-year-olds talking about the whale named Heaven, though, and think to myself that life really doesn't get much better than this. Kid A's best friend Jed was over this weekend, and the new game seems to be taking place on a big Redwood stump over by Candace's cabin. The stump is a boat, pulled by the whale named heaven. The whale is a nice whale, according to Kid A, but Jed is more bloodthirsty.

Yesterday we were walking (well, I was walking) back to our cabin, when this conversation took place.

Kid A: Heaven is chasing us!

Jed: OH NO!! STOP HEAVEN!! (Mimes choking and falling to the ground)

Kid A: NOOOO Jed! Heaven is GOOD! Heaven is nice!

Jed: ACK! It's killing me! I'm going to pick Heaven up and kill it!

Kid A: You can't kill Heaven!!!!

(Some scuffling and arguing ensues, which I break up, while Kid A tells me that Heaven is a nice whale and NOT A BAD WHALE, and Jed is killing his whale, and I say that Jed can't kill his whale because it's Kid A's and people can't kill other people's pretend whales. When in doubt, just make up a universal law.)