To the beat of his own drum...

This afternoon I was playing a haunting Luka Bloom song about an Algerian who escapes his homeland and wanders Europe searching for a place where he feels at home. I didn't realise it, but S and B had been sitting very quietly listening to the lyrics.

S: Mom, why did he leave his home?
Me: Because his country has a lot of problems and he left everything behind so that he wouldn't have to go fight in the army.
S: But when he went to Europe why didn't he just take his family with him?
Me: Because he couldn't. Europe has a lot of rules which say who can come in and who can't.
B: (nodding sagely) Oh, I know all about that. It's just like when S goes over to a friend's house to play.
Me: (???)
B: ...I always want to go too but I'm not allowed because I haven't been invited.

***

We were running errands yesterday and the boys pointed out an empty paper cup that someone had left behind on a picnic table.

S: Mom! Look, someone left litter lying around for someone else to clean up!
B: Yeah, they should get a major time out!
Me: You're right, guys, and...
B: He probably left it there and then while he was walking away he kept falling down and crying. And since he wasn't cooperating his father had to carry him to the car.
Me: (???) Umm, B, are you thinking of someone specific?
B: No, just someone very lazy...