This morning, Liam and I were talking about what it meant to be “passionate,” which is the word that his pediatrician has used to describe him since he was a little boy (she suggested passionate as an alternative to some of the other, far less flattering words I was using to describe my then toddler-aged son). 

Liam asked what passionate meant, exactly, and I said that it meant having strong feelings about things–positive or negative.

“You mean how I want to win all the time?”

“Yes, that’s part of it. But you’re passionate about karate, soccer, school work…”

“And when Caleb makes me mad, I’m really mad?”

“That’s part of it too. You’re a passionate person, so you’re passionate about everything.”

“Not everything, mommy.”

“Really? What aren’t you passionate about?”

Liam thought a minute. “Luge.”