learning the process

When I was unschooling my older children, who were just one or two at a time, and who I could focus on almost all day, I watched them put what I said into action. I am certainly not as focused on this kindergartener as I was on the others. I keep my ears open for indicators of trouble, but the youngest is more or less on his own, paradoxically more independent because of having five older people around. Most of the time, he has to come to me and ask to have my attention. I don't know what he's doing at all times like I did with his brothers.

A half an hour ago, the Hero brought me a plastic cube, probably part of an old broken Rubik's Cube that was donated to the collage bin when it broke. He had put green marker on one side and green play clay on the other. He put this object much too close to my face, as small children do, and said to me, "I'm a mad scientist. I made this."

"You don't seem crazy. That's what mad means in this context. Like the Mad Hatter." He was satisfied and ran away and I went back to the dishes I was doing. A few seconds later I finished that task and went to see what all the pounding and screaming was about.

It was the Hero. He said, "See? I'm mad."

I laughed at him. "What question are you working on? Scientists figure out answers by testing their best guesses to see if they work."

"Like what?"

"Like, will this object still float if we change it this or that way? Do all green objects float, or is it something else about it that keeps it from sinking?"

A minute later, while sweeping the living room, I heard the splash of water in the kitchen. Maybe we have another scientist on our hands.