Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night I babysat my younger grandson.  I brought my book and a magazine.  My daughter and her husband left for the restaurant.  I glanced at the monitor.  He was on his back with his eyes open.  Oh no, he was thinking.  Soon came the crying and I rushed upstairs and picked him up.  He was worried about a badger getting him.  I reassured him there were no badgers around.  He was uncertain.  We went downstairs, where, as I like to call him, the "bungle butt" played and talked in a frenzy until his parents returned after ten pm.  I didn't have to do much, just talk and sit and listen to him speak for all his cars, dragons and lambs.  As I left, he gave me a big hug.  Grandma to the rescue.  I picked up my untouched book and went home to read for a few minutes before going to bed.  I was tired enough.  I was not fearing a badger attack.  My mind was not in overdrive.  I'd gone through this with my older grandson and granddaughter, so I chalked the evening up to:  very bright child, his mind flying high with images and stories and fears and fascination, spins a tiny bit out of control.  And the people who love him still adore him, even while being very tired.