Yesterday we had to stop for gas and as my husband was outside busily getting the gas from the pump into our vehicle I had a rather peculiar conversation with my four year old son Gideon concerning the landscapers that were mowing the grass. It went as follows:
Gideon: Who are they, Mama?
Me: Oh, those are the landscapers, honey.
Gideon: What do they do?
Me: They take care of the grass and flowers, things like that.
Gideon: Why?
Me: Well, somebody has to do it, sweetie or the grass and flowers would die.
Gideon: What's his name?
Me: Honey, I don't know his name, I don't him.
Gideon: His name is Mr. Buckbeak!
Me: What??
Gideon: Yes, he's Mr. Buckbeak.
Me: Oh, ok. Right, of course....


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Strategies for Living With a Mental Illness Tip 4