Ronita ran up to me with her alphabet book said 'A' then 'fish'. She climbed into my lap and thrust the book into my hands saying 'more' with a rising inflection. She sat through three readings of the alphabet saying 'A' and then 'fish' each time.
I find her being astonishing. You can feel the elastic push of her expanding mind. I read A, B then paused asking "Can you say B?". She stared intently for a moment then with an upwards bounce for emphasis yelled "B!" her small hands raised and flailing with joy. I thought this is meaning unfolding. This a small making sense of the world. This is how it should be, caged gently in protective arms trying our hardest and knowing that whatever happens it will be alright.
I find her being astonishing. You can feel the elastic push of her expanding mind. I read A, B then paused asking "Can you say B?". She stared intently for a moment then with an upwards bounce for emphasis yelled "B!" her small hands raised and flailing with joy. I thought this is meaning unfolding. This a small making sense of the world. This is how it should be, caged gently in protective arms trying our hardest and knowing that whatever happens it will be alright.
Comments
You complete me, I have waited my whole life for your small, hard, grey box. But now that I've had you things have changed so I think the best thing for you to do is fuck off.
Love
D.
Just to clarify for anyone reading this, Ronita's alphabet book has a fish in it that on each page is swimming past the letters.
Our daughter does not believe that the alphabet sequence is:
"A Fish A Fish, A Fish Fish,
A Fish A Fish, A A A A Fish.
A Fish A, A Fish A,
A Fish A, A Fish Fish.
Now I know my A Fish Fish,
A Fish A Fish A Fish Fish.
More!"
Although it would be funny.
Rups xo
Then you could have a fishumblebee. I think a fishumblebee would be a lovely creature all floaty and fuzzy.