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Pretend your life depends on it

Grandboy and I were playing the “Pretend Your Life Depends On It” game this weekend…

Grandboy (weakly stretching forward): Grandpa. I can’t reach that toy car. Can you get it for me?

Me: Nope, you get it. Pretend your life depends on it and you’re by yourself.

Grandboy (straining): Grandpa. This is too hard to open. Can you open it for me?

Me: Nope. You open it. Pretend your life depends on it.

Grandboy (looking up the stairs): Ugh, grandpa I don’t want to go up there to get my book. Can you go get it for me?

Me (the look)

Grandboy: AUGH I KNOW… “Pretend my life depends on it…” (stomp stomp stomp)

(Coming back down) But when will my life ever depend on me going upstairs to get a book? Or doing any of these things?

Me: You never know, boy. Figure it out now so you won’t be sad later. You figured out how to do that stuff on your own, didn’t you?

Grandboy: Yah.

Me: Learning how to learn is the best thing to learn.

Grandboy: Grandpa, sometimes you say things that are hard to understand. But that’s ok I still love you.

From the good guys’ lair

Grandboy: … and then the bad guy comes out of his lair and attacks the people.

Me: And the good guys?

Grandboy: They come out of THEIR place…

Me: Their lair?

Grandboy: YAH. The good guy lair.

Me: I’m not sure good guys have lairs.

Grandboy: OF COURSE THEY DO GRANDPA. That’s where they practice how to protect people and get strong (pumps muscles) and stuff