One night when my son Patrick was 2 years old, he looked up at a half moon and said, “Moon broken.” The next time there was a full moon in the sky, he looked up and said, “Moon fixed now.”
I was not thrilled with the idea of letting my clueless 13-year-old son babysit his younger sisters, even though he begged me to.
"What about a fire?" I asked, referring to my No. 1 concern.
"Mom," he said, rolling his eyes, "I'm a Boy Scout. I know how to start a fire."