Finny and the moon seem to have a little something going on. In every book we read, whether full or crescent, if there’s a moon in the picture, Finny will find it. And every window we pass, whether morning or night, if there’s a moon in the sky, Finny will find it.
This morning the crescent moon lingered in the sky past daybreak, and all through breakfast, Finny called out to him, “Moon, moon, moon.” And after breakfast, when Finny climbed up into a kitchen chair, a new trick which makes him glow with pride, and then promptly tumbled backwards head first onto the hardwood floor, the only thing that could stop his tears was the sight of the moon still winking down at him from behind a tree. “Moon, moon, moon,” he called, tears streaking down his face.
And this afternoon, well after the moon had disappeared from sight, Finny could still be heard from the family room, face to the glass of the sliding door, calling, “Bah-bye, Moon. Bah-bye, Moon.”
Watch out, Mrs. Jones. Finny and Mr. Moon, they’ve got a thing going on.
That is, of course, only if Tissa is asleep in her drawer. If Tissa walks in the room, all bets are off.
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