Inspector General

My oldest son, then five, was at the babysitter when the state inspector paid a routine visit.  I am certain that the mysterious stranger's presence had been thoroughly explained and the importance of the visit had been carefully outlined prior to their arrival.  Still, I wonder how much a preschool child could really grasp.  Then there was Justin...five going on thirty-five.  He shadowed the inspector throughout the house, watched as cupboards were opened, closets were inspected and notes were made, scrutinizing every move.  At last, he offered his oh-so-helpful assistance.

"Don't worry.  No bad stuff ever happens here!"

- 2 February 2006