Frankenstein??

Sometimes kids give us a different perspective. On the way to church this morning, the almost 5-year-old chimed up: "Dad, you don't look like Frankenstein."

I just got a haircut, so I wondered if that's what triggered this response. Nathan's commented a few mornings when he's seen all my hair sticking up, "Dad, you look wierd!" So I thought maybe, perhaps, he meant I didn't look like Einstein, with my short cropped hair. So I probed a little.

"Why don't I look like Frankenstein?" 

"Frankenstein has flat hair. It's black. And he's green, and you're not." Nope, I guess he really meant Frankenstein! 

Maybe I should have dropped it while I was ahead, but I responded. "You're right, I'm not like Frankenstein in any of those ways!"

"No, you look zery, zery, zery, zery, zery, zery, zery old!"

To me, old = wise and mature, so I took it as a compliment. I also took it as a compliment that I don't look like Frankenstein. I think.

"How old are you, Dad?" Nathan asked me this morning.

"11," I replied, to evoke a reaction.

"No, you're not 11!" he said.

"12?"

"No!"

"How old do you think I am?"

He mused. "16,000?"

I laughed. "Well, pretty close."

"Come on, how old are you really?"

"38," I replied, not trying to evoke a reaction.

"38! Wow, that's really, really, old!" he said. 

I remember when I used to think the same thing.