My son still asks if there is a Santa Claus. He tells me facts about the sun that no one has ever learned before. His excitement is quiet, but palpable. He carries a wooden sword for protection. He is never sure of when he might come across a rogue band of Yachets. That's Yah-Sheets. A race of humanoids who can only be killed if their heads are chopped off with a sword. He's never seen "Highlander" and I smile. If you cut off any other body part, it will just grow back. He'd rather be a Yachet. They don't have to deal with sisters. I say I'd miss him if he ran away with a roving pack. He says he'd turn me into a Yachet if he can figure out how to become one. His sister can go live with Nana. He practices his fighting moves just in case he is accepted, but carries his sword because he is still human. He will protect his family. Even his sister. And he tells me I'm the best mom.
