I'm about to explode from adoration at my son's cuteness.
(Note 1: If you've never read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, stop what you are doing and go read it. If you don't have time for that, then just know that the book begins with little Lucy Pevensie walking through a wardrobe into a magical world where she finds a lamppost in the middle of the woods. And beneath the lamppost she meets a faun named Mr. Tumnus who invites her to tea. Now when you get home tonight go to the library, get the book and read it. Better yet, go buy it. It is worth the money.)
(Note 2: If you haven't spent much time with D lately, you may not remember that there is very little that he does in either a slow or solemn way. The seriousness in his tiny face was about the most endearing thing I've ever seen.)
A minute ago I heard D chattering about the lamppost that is in his room, then he crept quietly out into the hallway and with his huge brown eyes looking seriously at me he gestured to the empty air beside him.
"I met Mr. Tumnus under the lamppost. I'm going to his house to drink tea."
Then very solemnly he turned and walked back to his room, having a dignified conversation with Mr. Tumnus about tea and the snow. Moments later he came back out and with a tragic face motioned to our coffee table. In a sad voice he said:
"Look Mommy! The White Witch sent her wolves and they broke Mr. Tumnus' house. And I think she took him away."
Me: "Is Mr. Tumnus OK?"
D with a heartbreaking long sigh: "I don't think so. The witch is not a nice lady." (another long sigh) "Oh wait! She plopped Mr. Tumnus back down by the coffee table! He's fine! And now I think he's going to play with me, Thomas the blue tank engine!" And off he ran, sentimental.moment over.