the Prematurely Old Clarence frequently tests my abilities to steer sketchy conversations into clearer waters. with five-year-olds, you don't really want to be discussing predestination versus free will, for example, or their little heads might pop off (on second thought, this isn't looking like a bad idea). you tend to couch things in simpler terms, or avoid those subjects altogether. also, we try to discourage 'bathroom words.'
it's hard, though, when the Prematurely Old Clarence, who is Practically Perfect in Every Way, turns to me and asks whether farts are made of gas. or whether a turd is a kind of poo. the runny kind, right? and does so with complete sincerity.
and there is definitely no appropriate response to this, that i can see...
it's circle time, the clarences are gathered around
rachel: friends, what holiday is coming up?
clarences: merry christmas!!!
rachel: that's right, chrismas is coming! and what are we celebrating at christmas time?
half of the clarences, because the other half don't know: Jesus' birthday!!!
prematurely old clarence: Jesus is a capricorn, you know.