Sandman

Everything seems normal. Suddenly, Dylan stands bolt upright and slowly rolls his eyes into his head. His tongue flops from his mouth and his head tilts while he makes gurgling sounds that signify his death. Once again Dylan has been shot and killed...nearly a daily occurrence.

Dylan told me recently that the next time we go to the park I should bring an ax so he can chop up a fallen tree he and Taylor played on. Yeah, right.

He saw a picture of a soldier on the internet and asked if he uses a gun or a light saber.

The pile of sand to the right is from only one of his shoes after a hard day at the school playground. He says he'll be famous someday because he'll invent things. Having heard about his inventions, I'm skeptical. Yet, I don't doubt that he'll be famous, if he wants to be, since it's so ingrained in his mind, and he's smart.

Dylan lives in the innocent world of a 5 year old boy. Not only are the good guys good but the bad guys know they're bad. It will be a confusing day when he learns that everyone thinks they're the good guy.

Dylan no longer collects rocks. This was one of the funnier stages I remember. We knew that if Dylan disappeared for a minute that he would reappear with a pocketful of rocks. We set guidelines like: "you can choose one rock only," or "all rocks at this castle need to stay at this castle." Now it's all just another good memory.

Dylan rides a two wheeler now, thanks to Amy's style rather than my brutish nature.

A barely audible, "please say yes," comes from him when he's not sure if he'll get permission. It's as though he's trying to subliminally affect our decision. It's hard to say "no" when you're laughing.

His phone conversations are cut short with, "Bye from Dylan."