The earth's pull

Vincent and I are sitting on Riley's bed last night when I farted, or, as Bella puts it, my tummy burped. Loudly.

"My tummy burped!" I quipped.

"Whoa," says Riley, "What if the whole earth burped??"

"Well then, I guess we'd fall off." Nothing like reassuring your children before bedtime.

"No mom, there's that thing that keeps us from falling off," he says, with that adorable preschooler insinuation that I do in fact know everything.

"Do you remember what that's called?" I ask.

"Gravity!" he yells, beaming when he realizes that he's remembered such a grown-up word. "Did I get it right?" he wants to know.

My husband and I glance lovingly at one another, sharing pride of our little genius boy.

"And grass," Riley adds.

Of course. That's why they make cleats, silly. To help you stay put.