“I’m the human that was boooooorn…” he says, spinning around, looking up towards the ceiling with his hand dangling over his face.
“I’m the human that was boooooorn…” he trips and falls, face-first into the carpet, then pulls himself up, sobbing.
I use mommy snuggles and kisses to coax him back into a happy state.
“Are you the human that was born?” I ask him.
“I’m the human that was born in the puzzle,” he says.
“What did you say?”
“I’m the human that was born in the puzzle.”
He smiles at me and nods, as though he’s certain I will understand exactly what that means.
Update 9/11/07: Last night he added one more (surprising) detail to this mantra: “I am the human that was born in the puzzle of modern physics.” No joke.
Copyright Tracy Zollinger Turner, Tinymantras.com, 2007.
We may never know what he means but how precious to have his words on record. Maybe he will include them in the autobiography each child seems to write in 4th grade and offer us some insights then. I had a few epiphanies reading what you and your brother wrote at that age- What a joy our Declan is- so full of wondrous surprises like a magic box we open every day- LOVE YOU