My oldest nephew is 6. In watching and helping him grow up, i've been reminded that, although children do often lend their imaginations freely, they're also capable of some strong cases of detachment.

A few weeks back, my mom got Nathan for the weekend, because his favorite storybook, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day, was being performed as a play by a local college. We went and, although he wasn't interactive with the players when the crowd was encouraged to yell back and such, Nathan said he really enjoyed it.

But the best moment for me was intermission, when i walked him outside to keep his "six-year-old-ness" from exploding. He said it was great, but he was confused. "Why does THIS story have BIG kids?" Try explaining how the whole "acting-means-trying-to-be-someone-you're-not" thing to a six-year-old. Cracks me up!