Little Brother spent most of the car ride to and from tonight's play rehearsal to discuss his future aspirations. He wants to play professional soccer and then become a deacon--if it doesn't take too long to prepare for Holy Orders. He also wants to be a doctor. (I didn't bother to burst his bubble by telling him that it's probably quicker to prepare for the diaconate than for a career in medicine.)
"They don't build houses that way anymore," I told him. "I don't know what they do with the trees; they might grind them up right there, or they might take them someplace else to use for firewood or something. But the builder is going to get his materials from a lumberyard that has everything already processed."
"That's a bad way to build houses," he commented. "When I grow up and become a Builder of Houses, I'm going to use the trees I cut down to make part of the houses. And if I have any leftovers, I'll give them away so someone can make notebooks."