Planet Ben

Ben was about three, sitting on the couch looking at a book. We were getting ready to go to a farm to see some animals. I had told Ben about the trip, thinking he would be excited, but there was not much of a reaction.

“Ben. Ben. Ben,” I called. “Ben! Be—en, can you hear me? We have to go.”

Sigh. “Yes, okay. I don’t want to go. I want to stay here.”

“Ben, we’re going to go do something as a family today. We’re going to a farm to see animals.”

“I don’t want to go see animals.”

“Ben, c’mon, you like animals, don’t you? You can’t live like you’re all by yourself. You don’t live on planet Benjamin, you know. You live on planet Earth.”

Ben looked at me skeptically. “Why can’t I live on planet Benjamin? I don’t want to live on planet Earth.”

“But this is where you live—here with Mommy and Daddy on planet Earth and there are other people in the world and we all live together and do things together.”

“Mommy, do you live on planet Earth?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“No? Where do I live, Ben?”

“I think you live on planet Mommy.”

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