Imagine (a 4-year old on a Wednesday).

Two young boys, sans bicycles, wait at the top of adjacent slides and prepare to test out gravity.

At one point.

Imagine if I was biking down a slide,
he mused,
the machinations of imagination plotting internally to turn this conjecture into reality.

I can imagine that.
I said truthfully.

At one point, part 2 : three minutes after I suggested it might not be the safest plan

Can I get some glue for my bike to help with jumping?
he asked, apparently having forgotten my mandatory suggestion from 35 seconds earlier that involved him, under all but the most rare of circumstances, riding his bicycle down a slide.

Episode 3

What are you doing? I asked, almost stumbling across two young boys on the front porch with their hands folded, their eyes closed, and…kneeling.

The elder glanced up, cracking an eye at me:
We’re not doing anything too cool,
he said.
Just praying.

That’s really great,
I said, trying not to make too great a deal out of a breathtaking situation involving a 1- and 4-year old dirty-faced pair sending aloft their thoughts to God.
What are you praying about?

Can you please go now?
he said, squeaking his eyelid mostly closed while his younger brother giggled another sentence into the air.

Fine. I said. Pray for me too.

We won’t,
he chortled.
We really want to ride our bikes down the slide, don’t we?

The Younger grinned with complete awe and agreement.

Good luck, God,
I whispered.