A few nights ago Tim and I were talking about the moon. I had told him that his Daddy used to sing a funny song about a man who lives in the moon; whose hair was spaghetti and his eyes were meatballs.
The next night he sat with me during my devotions and asked me where heaven was...so he could go there on an airplane like we're going to Grandpa's. I said that heaven was is the sky past the moon and stars and the sunshine. So far that even airplanes can't get there.
Apparently he got both stories mixed up because last night on the way home from church we saw a full moon and he said, "Mommy, God lives in the moon. And he has a meatball head."