Little Dude, Big Dreams

"Bonjour, Mama!"

"Bonjour."

"How do you say 'Mister' in French?"

"Monsieur."

"So it's 'Bonjour, Monsieur?'"

"Oui."

"Oh, that's 'yes' in French!"

"Yes."

"Oui, oui!"

This morning, Little Dude told me, "When I'm Daddy's age, I'm going to live in Paris." Clearly he's thought this out because then he told me that he'll need to learn French to do so, to which I replied, "Maybe we can learn French together." And he excitedly replied, "Oui, oui!"

I'm never really sure where Little Dude's big ideas come from. Sometimes I swear he has a secret life that I am not privy to, or maybe he's a reincarnated Ernest Hemingway. He'll tell us fantastic stories that we have never heard before. He'll express his disapproval by saying things like "that's inappropriate." He is suddenly in love with playing chess. And I wouldn't be surprised to come home one day and find him typing away at an old typewriter while smoking a pipe.

Seriously. Who's kid is this?

So this morning, I wasn't even shocked when he announced his plans to move to France in 30 years. I didn't even bother to ask him why or how or any of those tough questions. After all... he's has plenty of time to figure out the details. But right now, he's a dreamer.

And honestly... that's the best part about being a kid. Dreaming.

Remember the dreams you had as a kid? Before someone came along and told you they were impossible or too hard to achieve. I do. And maybe it's bad parenting, but I don't want to squash Little Dude's dreams. Maybe he will live in France one day. Maybe he will become a rock star-missionary-teacher-veterinarian-astronaut. Who to say he can't? Maybe if he keeps dreaming, he'll become the next Ernest Hemingway and achieve all those dreams in his books.

In the meantime, I'll support him as he figures out who he is and where he's going. Even if it means I have to learn how to say more than "Bonjour, Monsieur" in French!