People who insist that their kids are extraordinarily gifted, without the benefits of any kind of objective analysis or testing, crack me up. I mean it; they do. I mean, I'm sure little Princess can draw a mean stick figure, or that Precious knows how to do three-digit long addition problems in his head, but unless he or she can do it for someone other than the oh-so-unbiased parent, outside of the privacy of their own house, I remain good-naturedly skeptical. I was a "gifted kid," and even (especially?) from that standpoint (and knowing that test scores and a few quarters might get you a cup of coffee if you're lucky), I find the whole thing pretty funny.

Sam may or may not be gifted intellectually; that's not for me to say. What I can say is that these days he's almost startlingly insightful, and it's starting to wig me out a little. He scores debate points on me that make me want to back away slowly; he hits at the crux of matters with what seems like no effort at all. It's a little scary, folks. I didn't think four-year-olds were supposed to be able to think like this.

Take yesterday, for example. I was talking on the phone to Alysia, and then Sam took the phone to talk to Zach. They chatted for a long time, during which I heard Sam make promises that "Mommy and Daddy are bringing me back soon." He told Zach that he loved him about six times before handing the phone back to me and retreating to his room by himself for a while. I nearly cried.

Later that evening, he asked me why we had to move to Wisconsin. I told him that Daddy got a new job, and he wanted to know, again, why. "Because little boys and families are expensive," I told him. "Daddy's job pays for clothes, doctor appointments, and birthday presents." In hindsight, I realize that this wasn't the best answer; I didn't mean to imply that it was his "fault" that we moved. Still, that was what I said.

He frowned and asked, "Does Zach's daddy buy him clothes and presents?"

"Yes, he does."

"Does Zach's daddy have his job in Ohio?"

"Um...yes, he does."

"Then why is Daddy's job in Wisconsin?"

Holy crap! Did this kid just back me into a corner, implying that since there were obviously jobs to be had in Ohio, we shouldn't have moved here? Why, I believe he did. I explained that Zach's daddy and his own daddy had different kinds of jobs, but he seemed unconvinced.

He's got two primary baby dolls now, a boy named Ben and a girl named Carly. He likes to cart one of them around with us wherever we go, which drives me nuts because he inevitably lays the doll down someplace or else asks me to carry it, and dadburnit, I've already got a baby. A few days ago, I managed to convince him to leave the doll in the car while we were in the grocery store, and apparently that stuck in his head. Later, I was getting the boys out of the car, and Sam quietly said, "We should never leave Gabe in the car, or else he might get sick. Right?"

"Right. Babies could get very, very sick if they are left in the car!"

"Then how come you made me leave my Ben in the car?!" He pounced, full of righteous indignation, all stored up for the right moment. I apologized, of course, and I kissed Ben and made sure he was okay.

He's full of bits of wisdom, some of which are just funny and some of which have startled me:

• "You know what? Godzilla and pachycephalosaurus look just the same. See?"
• "When I'm a daddy and have babies, I'll just take care of them and not lose them! Losers, weepers!"
• "Why do light bulbs have to pop? Why can't the people make lightbulbs that work forever?"
• "I'm made of water and meat!"
• "Some ants are my friends, and some ants are bugs."
• "If you eat things that are strong and healthy, it will make you strong and healthy!"
• "When I die, I won't cry, because I'll be in heaven with Jesus. You don't cry, either."
• "We need three more babies: one that's make-believe, another one that's make-believe, and one that's real."
• "When I was a baby, I didn't want to talk. I could, but I didn't want to."
• "Okay, then maybe I'll take my money and go to a restaurant. It only takes eight coins."

• "You don't want Gabe to go to sleep, do you?"

(Okay, so maybe that's not so much insightful as much as it is ornery. Still gave me pause.)

We've got a few years to tell, I figure, but though we have no real proof that he's a genius, I'm still pretty impressed. One thing, though; if he is a genius, I wouldn't be surprised to find him turning into an evil one. I heard him in the bathtub playing with a little action figure that was "swimming" in the water, and as he brought a small plastic cage up behind the man to trap him, he muttered, "Ha-hah! I'm the cage! Now I've got you! Muah-ha-ha!"

I'm punchy from lack of sleep, so you'll forgive me. For some reason, instead of Daylight Savings Time having the effect on them that it has on most people, my boys have been getting sleepier earlier and earlier each evening. Last night, Sam got undressed, crawled into bed, and demanded his bedtime stories at freaking 6:30, and Gabe was rubbing his eyes and whimpering at the same time. Of course, that means they wake up earlier, too. I've got to break the cycle, but since neither boy approaches pleasant when I try to keep them awake when they're drowsy, I'm not eager to try. Maybe this weekend, with Eric's help.

Oh, hey: the portrait pictures I mentioned a couple of entries back: