After the waiter seated our party, I realized we were missing someone–Cade. I glanced back to the waiting area and saw him animatedly conversing with a woman, holding a newborn. 

Escorting him to our table, I asked what he’d been talking to her about. He said, “Oh, I was just asking what the baby eats. Mommy, she only feeds him milk! I don’t think that’s very healthy. She should at least give him soup or something. He could just drink the soup, if she gave him some. You don’t need teeth for potato soup.”

Cade, age 7

Cade is seven. Yet he supposes that he knows more about the dietary needs of a random baby than the child’s mother. Just ten minutes ago (it seems) he was drinking milk, and only milk, himself!

How do we go from milk-drinking babies to advice-giving experts in a matter of minutes? And God, who knows more than every expert’s expertise, must laugh at the advice, parenting and otherwise, we give each other–the way I laughed at my seven-year-old’s recommendations.

Next time I feel equipped to give advice about something I mastered ten minutes ago, maybe I’ll picture a newborn drinking potato soup.