"What Kind of Human am I?"

"What kind of human am I?" Turner asked.

Uhhhhh...quick, quick...right answer....uhhhhh, "A boy?" I responded with an upward lilt to my voice.

 "No.  I mean, am I a Native American!?" he stated with emphasis.  Driving down the road,  this is when I stop craning my neck to get a good look at my 9 year old son.

My son will break hearts one day.  He will break my heart!!! He is a beautiful blond-haired, fair-skinned, lanky young boy.  So, with a giggle and smile quickly squelched, I peer at him with mustered seriousness, in the rearview mirror, and respond, "Uh no, you are not a Native American...you are a German, Irish, Englishman."

"Oh", he says, as if this is now settled.

There is absolutely NOTHING more refreshing than a conversation with a child.