"Mom, we hardly ever do what we did when I was three."
I know there's something behind this, this is no general philosophical observation about a boy's growth process. Yesterday in the tub we played the game we played "when I was three." A game of bubbles and water mixed into coffee shop steamers, which mom pretends to sip to her heart's content. Now that he's five the game is much improved by the addition of spices, which I pretend are far too spicy for my taste. Today I wonder, "What are you thinking of?"
"My math we did when I was three."
I'm wracking my brain, what was the "math" we used to do that he enjoyed so well? I'm coming up blank and ask him to tell me. The much loved math game was a homemade Montessori game, the Spindle Box, only in the plastic-Walmart and scrap paper version. We played it often as he learned to count to ten. Today I tell him we don't play it anymore because it's too easy for him, now that he's five and counting by fives. I don't think it would be fun anymore, but he's sure, and he tests his theory beside me on the floor. He counted out the sticks - once. The game was easy, but it was fun when he was three. He's re-living the good old days, now that he's five.