I peek through the opening, first tiptoeing over there so they don’t notice me and stop their affectionate embrace. Oh, now I guess you’re wondering why I sound so intelligent. Well, these days, we don’t start school when we’re six, like I hear happened a long time ago. We can start as early as one, but then our parents have to teach us until we’re three. Then we start round one. We don’t have to do a round a year, like I learned happened before. We advance in classes as fast as we advance in our minds. Practically everyone’s geniuses now-a-days. And now the whole “growing-up” years are messed up too. You become a “teen” when you’re 8, whatever that means; and you become an adult when you’re thirteen. Mama tells me I already have “seventh-grade” intelligence, which means I’m even smarter than most of my peers.
Well, as I peer through the crack, I find what looks to be a huge slide, plus some stairs on the sides. I wonder if this is going to be my play-place. Even though I have a seventh-grade mind, I still have a 5-year-old’s body and energy. Hmmm . . . I guess that’s where all this big stuff came from.
Mama suddenly stiffens, as if she had remembered something, and glances around. When her look falls upon me, she looks apologetic. She holds her hand out, an offering. I take it and join my parents in the center of the room for a group hug. I’ve lived with and loved them for five whole years, and now I’m scared to let go. I don’t want to lose Mama and Daddy. I start crying, and together they pick me up, holding me up to their eye level and hugging me close.
When we part, I’m about to pass-out, I’m so tired. I guess after all that crying and worrying, my body’s about ready to rest. I accept that, letting m body have its way, and can feel the sensation of being carried to the huge bed, and being laid in the center.
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