Oh, Aidan. Further chronicles involving artichokes, a trash can and karate.

The other night I went to check on Aidan while he was taking a bath. He's usually pretending to scuba dive whenever I pop my head in on bath night, and, sure enough, he was submerged and swimming as much as a kid can submerge and swim in a bathtub. The only difference this time was that he had added goggles to his ensemble. Or maybe I should say goggle. I think that's what they're called when there's only one gog. His head surfaced and he squinted through that gog with a bewildered and disoriented look on his face. He must have really been taking his dive seriously.

Indeed, Aidan has a unique outlook on a number of things. I give you the next installment of Aidan's quips and queries.

*The other evening, Aidan asked what we were having for dinner. When I told him we were having Chicken in a Hurry, he was less than thrilled: "So it's a dead chicken and artichoke hearts? I don't like any of those things."

*A recent conversation with dad included the following remark: "I don't think I'd take karate because I don't like getting hit in the face and I like to protect all of my parts."

*The guys were watching a college football game. The marching band at halftime really made an impression on Aidan: "Boy, those guys all sure know their shapes."

*Aidan was feeling a bit under the weather. He asked if I would take his temperature, "'Cause I don't feel awesome, like I usually am." I took his temperature and tucked the sniffly boy in bed. After checking to see that he had a box of Kleenex and a trash can nearby, I prepared to leave the room. He wasn't satisfied. "I feel like I don't have enough supplies." I wasn't sure what more I could offer. He suggested that medicine might help. "I like Tylenol . . . ."

*I found my bedroom trash can in a rather warped state of being after the above mentioned sniffles had run their course. Naturally, I went to Aidan to do some questioning. He confessed, "I wanted to see if it was the kind of metal that was hard or the kind that squishes. It's the kind that squishes."

Stay tuned. I can almost guarantee that there will be more where that came from.

Oh, Aidan.

Aidan finds a new use for my tea cozy.

I have dozens of notebooks lying around. A few of them are dedicated solely to my children's quirky phrases and "isms." Lately, Aidan has been on a roll. I wish I could follow him all day with a video camera. He's a funny kid. His comments start out heading in one direction. Then he takes a seemingly sudden detour and finishes his thought with a totally unexpected line. His deadpan remarks kill us. I thought I'd let him kill you today, too.

* One afternoon, Aidan came down wearing my heels. My eyebrows shot up and he explained, "I wanted to see what it will be like when I'm nine." He figured that's about how much taller he'd be in two years. As he wobbled off he assured me, "I'll be more balanced, though."

* Again he approached me one day, out of the blue. He got really close to my face and asked, "How are my freckles comin' along?" (He's really hoping to be blessed with sprinkles like his sister, Bethie, and cousin, Ethan.)

* A little while ago we were pulling out of the parking lot at Ross. I saw a very distressed man wringing his hands and wandering aimlessly. I wanted to help, but felt somewhat uncomfortable since I was alone with the children. When I noticed that he was talking on a cell phone and also interacting with a person parked nearby, I figured he could at least summon help if need be. My help probably wasn't necessary. I explained all of this to the children, wanting them to understand the importance of exercising both compassion and safety. I continued by saying that I might have felt more comfortable helping a woman. I was proud of my gallant Aidan who said he would help a woman, too. His reason, however, left me speechless. "I would only help a woman because a man is smarter than a woman and would know what to do."

Just you wait, 'Enry 'Iggins. Just you wait.