My children were playing tag; running with glee through every inch of the house. I love hearing the sound of fun and happiness.

In the middle of all of the squealing and laughing, Cayden suddenly stopped and calmly said,
“Ok. I have had enough fun with this game. I’m moving on to other things.”
And with that, the game was over.

I took one look at Connor’s face and I couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up from my heart. We smiled at each other, and just shook our heads together with a “knowing” gaze. That was Cayden, and we loved her.

Our shared moment was interrupted by her question.
“Why did you laugh, Mommy?” Cayden was confused.

“Oh, sweetie…” I answered. “I laughed because I just love how you are completely comfortable speaking your mind. That’s really a beautiful thing.”

She smiled, satisfied with my answer, and started to walk away.

But now, Connor was puzzled.
“Do you love it when I speak my mind, Mommy?” he asked.

“Of course I do, son.”

“Well actually,” he said, changing his tone. “I don’t ever speak my mind. I speak the truth, and they are not the same things.”

Moved by the intellectual level of this exchange, I agreed with my six-year-old genius.
“You are absolutely right. The truth, and what is in your mind, are not necessarily the same things. Wow, son. That is really deep.”

“Yeah. So that’s why I don’t speak my mind. I speak the truth.” he repeated.

I was hoping he’d continue, but he chose silence instead. He had nothing more to say on the matter.
I watched him. No, I stared at him in awe as he put his toy in its place on the shelf. He is so wise, and I get to be his mom.
The feeling kept growing inside of my heart until it was overwhelming. So, I opened my mouth to give him another compliment, but I was interrupted by the sound of my daughter’s voice.

“Wait mom. He doesn’t speak his mind, he speaks the truth. What does that mean?” she asked.

Encouraged by Connor’s example, and fully expecting equivalent brilliance to come out of my mouth, I started to answer her.
“You see, our brains are full of many random, wonderful, creative thoughts. And some of those thoughts are not real in this world.”

“But what does that mean?” she asked, sending my response back to the beginning.

“Well…” I started again. “If I imagine that the world is suddenly being taken over by…”
“…by a bunch of butts!” Connor shouted, exposing yet another layer of his 6-year-old wisdom.

“Yeah,” I said smiling and lifting my arms to add emphasis to the story. “If I imagine in my mind that the entire world around us is being taken over…”

“…by a bunch of butts!” Connor interrupted again, with a burst of laughter.
“…a bunch of butts!” Cayden repeated.
The laughter was contagious.

“Yes kids, butts,” I said, with as much maturity as I could muster. “Close your eyes, and let your brain show you all of the butts that are taking over the world. Can you see them? Can you see the butts?”

There was a moment of silence and then we all burst out with laughter.

“Too many butts!” Connor hollered, rolling onto the floor.
“Butts!” Cayden repeated, just to say the word.
“Butts!” Connor shouted again for good measure.

“Ok!” I finally caught my breath. “You can see the butts, and they are taking over the whole world, right?”
“Yes.” they answered in unison through closed eyes, big grins, and deep breaths.

“See what your imagination can do? Your mind can create amazing pictures and events. But is it the truth? Are a bunch of butts really taking over the world?”
We looked at each other for a moment and then started laughing again.

They were laughing at all of the butts that they could still see in their minds.
I was laughing at the urge to blow my whole point with an ironic, political twist.

“Well?” I asked through giggles. “Are butts taking over the world?” (Yes!)
“No,” Cayden answered, holding her tummy from the muscle burn. “Butts are not taking over the world. That’s silly.”

I looked over towards my son who was still trying to recover from the laugh-fest. “Connor? Are they taking over the world?”

“No,” Connor answered, “No they aren’t.”
After a deep breath, he turned to his sister and continued,
“So Cayden, if we chose to speak what is on our minds right now, we would not be speaking the truth. See Cayden? Do you see how they aren’t the same thing?”

“Yes. I see,” she answered with apparent understanding.

“So, that’s what I meant. I don’t speak my mind, I speak the truth,” he said, putting a period on his point.

In an effort towards closure (or just to end with a bit of sophistication) I got their attention again and said,
“Kids, I love how you both use your inventive minds. What we just shared together was so beautiful. Remember, you can always share your imagination with me because I love every bit of your creativity.”

I paused for emphasis and then continued with even more passion,
“Connor and Cayden, outside of ‘play’, I absolutely LOVE how you speak the truth. You are truthful people, and that is precious to me.”

We smiled at one another, absorbing the emotion in the air.

I intentionally made solid eye contact with each child moving from Connor’s eyes to Cayden’s, and then back to Connor’s again.
Our smiles grew stronger with each shared second, and the silence in the room was a warm hug over the moment.

Then, Connor turned to his sister, smiled really big and shouted, “Butts!”
And they both fell out laughing at the “sophistication” of it all.