Mason had a splitter in his arm yesterday. He cried and cried and wouldn't let me touch it. He was really distraught about it and just didn't know what to do to get it out. I told him that I would pull it out. It was bearly even hanging on anyway. During all the tears, he asked me, "Is God making me hurt like this?" I told him no but that unfortunately hurting was a part of life. He told me that he did not like the hurting part of life. I couldn't help but giggle at him but he seemed so grown up.
The other morning Mason woke up and immediately started acting like he was mad at something. Brett asked him if he was mad because a cat had pooped in his mouth while he was sleeping. His breathe was kickin! Mason didn't think that it funny at the time. Yesterday he woke, laid there for a minute and then proceeded to get mad again. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "That same cat pooped in my mouth again!"