My four year old loves to drop the knowledge bombs. (“Don’t you mean knowledge BATH BOMBS, daddy? Haa ha!”)

Most of it is about Minecraft (facts about Enderman and TNT) or Super Mario (Dry Bones and Madame Grape) none of which I know anything about because I am culturally backward when it comes to video games (“Bath Bob-ombs, Daddy. Haa ha!”). But very once in a while I still get a peek into the deep logic that child has naturally.

My dad’s house is in the Pacific Beach neighborhood of San Diego: Pac Beach or PB for short. When she was alive, my mom, who had a heart condition for nearly her entire life, loved the walking along the beach in PB or falling asleep to the waves crashing in La Jolla Cove and I want to share those experiences with Benjamin. After we ate lunch, we started to heading to the beach.

“Where are we, daddy?”

“We are in Pac Beach.”

“No, we are in Pac!”

“Huh?”

“Over there is the beach, so this part must be ‘Pac.’”

(It’s hard to argue with this logic: another Benjamin knowledge bath bob-omb gets dropped on me.)