This morning I was straightening up Mack’s room while he was getting dressed. He was just talking about random things, and I was listening as he rambled. He then said, “Hey Mom–you know who is happy when we are mean?” I asked, “Who?” He said, very soberly, “The devil. He likes when we do bad things. When we are mean he is so happy.”
I said, “Yeah, Mack, you’re right. He is happy when we are mean.”
Understand that I am thinking that he is thinking of the times when he is mean to his sisters or when he does things he should not do–all those acts of disobedience.
However….his next statement made me realize that maybe he was aiming his words at a particular person.
“Yeah, Mom. When you be mean to us, the devil says, ‘Yes! That is what I like. I love, love, love when the mommy is mean to the kids.’ That’s what he says…”
Then after a few seconds of silence (during which time he must have been wondering if he was being straightforward enough), he said, “Remember when I was talking and talking so very loud in your ear and you scared me when you told me to just stop?”
I stand rebuked by my four year old little