You forget how the brain is just different

Last night, we watched the fireworks on the roof. Max joined us for the first time (he's tried a couple years running, but has been too sleepy or too scared, or just oblivious, and so it didn't count). He was scared to be up on the roof, but got over his fear of the ladder once he was sitting in my lap on a beach chair eating Rick's homemade mint-chip ice cream.

He kept trying to talk about what exactly fireworks were - were they real? Like Santa Claus? Were they fire? What made them? What made the noise? We were joined for a bit in the beach chair line by Sophie Klimasmith, a ten year old visiting upstairs, who was happy to serve as resident expert to answer Max's questions.

Max: Are fireworks real?
Sohpie: Yes.
Max: Are dinosaurs real?
Sophie: They were real.
Max: But a long time ago, right?
Sophie: Yes.
Max: If the tooth fairy comes to my house I'm going to reach out with both hands and grab her and keep her from flying away.
Me: But what if you want her to bring more money when you lose your next tooth.
Max: I'm going to pull her wings off so she can't fly.
Sophie: But then she won't like you.
Max: Her legs will be too skinny to walk.

Slightly psycho? Or just figuring it all out?