7 years old

My sons went from toy cars, army men, and dinosaurs to the most hideous toys they could find. One so-called ‘toy’ was Spawn characters. These were so ugly that they gave me nightmares while they gave him so much delight. To me they looked as if the toy company had taken a clump of plastic, put 2 eyes on it, long sharp teeth and said it looked like something trying to spawn. I tried to deter his attention by introducing him to cuter and cuddlier toys such as Pound-Puppies, G.I. Joes, and stuffed animals. No, he wanted Spawn and the Spawn-mobile. If it shot bullets all the better. Many times I have been pelted in the rear-end with hard plastic bullets. There has always been a strange fascination to my kids over my backside. They would run up and smack me and then rate it like a seismograph. The more the jiggle, the higher the rating. "Wow, that was a SEVEN!" Sometimes I would bend over to pick up one of their toys and from across the room, I’d hear, "Hey! You’re blocking the Sun!" Then shrieks of laughter.
Another phase of the 7-year-olds life is questions. One of the worst is, "Where do babies come from?" They can never wait and ask at a more appropriate time like when they are grown. They always have to ask when there is a room full of people. I have always tried if even unsuccessful to leave a feeling with people that I was of a somewhat high caliber for an individual. It always seems that when there are people that you want to have good thoughts about you that your darling child asks the question. I don’t know but all of a sudden the whole room seems quiet and as you look around you realize that everyone’s eyes are upon you. As sweat breaks out on your forehead and your pulse is going mach 2 and knowing that my answer could either make me or break me I’d manage to say the only thing that could be said at the time. "Well honey, babies come from the baby fairies." Little did I know that I had just screwed up my child and had set the pattern for deep psychological counseling later.