Oh Blake...

"Mommy. When are you going to put me on the stage?

I just want to sing..."

Last night Blake was dying to help me make dinner. I had previously made dinner earlier in the afternoon, and now we just needed to place things on the stove to get it rolling again.

He helped me dump pasta in a bowl, add spaghetti sauce (with mashed up beans...little extra protein snuck in there!) and then wanted to be the cheese adder man.

Once the table was set, and everyone had their plate, he rushed back to "his" seat. On the way, his foot got stuck in my very long, very thick velvet curtain hanging on the back slider.

He flew into the table, hit his chair, which fell over and made a huge dent in the wall. Trying to catch himself, he grabbed his placemat and flipped his entire dinner onto the wall, and all over the floor.

Remember...spaghetti sauce...

He burst into tears, turned a slight shade a blue and I think at one point stopped breathing. I took him into the other room, calmed him down and had him show me where it hurt. He pulled up his shirt and showed me his chest.

His eyes got really big and he said, "I hurt right here next to my heart!"

I said, "You are right, but you are okay Blake."

"But Mommy! I am alright, but I don't know if Jesus is!"