Over spring break the boys asked if Tate could sleep in Julian's room with him one night. We were happy to let him. I put the kids to bed a little later than usual (all week, lovin' that part) and the boys were still chatting in bed about an hour later. I was about to tell them it was time to quiet down and get to sleep when I stopped outside the door to hear what a 5 year old and newly 8 year old could possibly be discussing for so long. Here is what I heard:
(I will preface this by saying that all 4 of the kids have been very inquisitive about God, Jesus, and heaven lately.)
Tate: Brat (Russian word for brother), when Mom and Pop get old are they going up?
Tate: Brat, up there they have lots of castles and cheeseburgers!
Julian: No, Tate. Not cheeseburgers. Better than cheeseburgers!
Tate: Oh! It will be really big and nice, like our house.
Julian: No, Tate. It will be better than our house.
Tate: Oh? Like what?
Julian: Better than we can think, Tate.
How sweet is that?