Septemus 18

sept830

Moon-Munchkin,

I keep waiting for you to say you want to meet the other kids. I’m getting to know some of their bizaabgotojoto from the forums, and I’ve been telling you all I’ve learned about your siblings.

Most are quite a bit younger than you. I guess some were still infants during the crash and were kept by the agency until they were old enough to be placed in homes. Some were in cryogenic pods during transit and brought out once agency scientists had a chance to test the technology.

Only a few others are in your cohort. One, Cheddah Cheese, is even older. He’s already a young adult. Aging and development seems to happen at different rates. I haven’t been able to find out what causes this yet.

I’ve been expecting you to ask to get on the forums.

So far, you haven’t shown any interest. You’ll eagerly listen to everything I want to share, but you don’t yet want to read the forum posts. I’ve decided that, as with most things, we’re taking this at your pace.

sept829

I guess if there’s one thing I learned in Early Childhood Education courses, it’s that the kid knows: Kids know when they’re ready to learn new skills, try new things, and stretch their boundaries. Often, the best thing we can do as caregivers and educators is to observe, listen, and respect.

I’ve noticed that you spend a lot of time standing on the porch with your eyes closed.

sept820

I asked you about it this evening.

“What are you doing when you stand there, quietly, with your eyes shut?”

You paused a moment before you answered. I could feel you were weighing up whether to tell me and how much to reveal. I can’t read your thoughts the way you can read mine, but I can read your energy and your feelings. And at that moment, you were deciding how much to trust me.

sept828

I put my ego aside for a moment: You’ve got every right to decide to keep some things to yourself. Just because you’re my son, that doesn’t mean I’ve got a right to know everything you do, every moment. Your feelings, your dreams, your ideas, your power when you close your eyes–that’s yours. You decide what to share.

As I was thinking this, you smiled. You closed your eyes, and I felt a burst of blue love. I saw a moon-blue rose open inside, and it shot blue light all through me.

sept824

Iamsingingtoallofthem,” you said. Then you remembered spaces without me having to remind you. “I am singing to all of them,” you repeated.

“All of who, munchkin?” I asked.

“All the bizoopagotogo,” you said.

sept819

“Do they hear you?” I asked.

“Oh, yes! Squeegee!” you said.

sept825

You told me that you don’t sing the black hole song, and you don’t sing the pearl eyes song.

“I sing a song about kittens, sometimes,” you said. “Because, kittens! I like when they purr, and the song’s got a chorus about purring.”

sept826

“That sounds like a happy song,” I said.

“Yeah,” you said. “And I sing about you!”

sept827

I chuckled, and the blue rose inside got bigger.

“It’s really a song about your hair,” you said. “Like, you know Medusa? She had hair like yours, only hers made kids turn frozen-rock. So, what’s the opposite? Hair that makes you warm. Happy hair.”

“You sing a song about happy hair?” I asked.

“Yeah. Kinda,” you said.

sept823

“That’s a little bit weird,” I said. I felt a little embarrassed, to tell the truth.

“No, no!” you said. “It’s a great song!” And you sang it for me, aloud in your echoing, bubbling voice:

“Five hundred black snakes
All tight and twirly,
Some tickle long style,
Some tickle surely!

“When you see black snakes
Tied in a bunch, yeah,
Then you know ‘Bastion makes
Happy fries all curly!”

“Because you always tie your hair back when you cook!” you said.

“This is the song you sing with your eyes closed to your little siblings?” I asked.

“Yeah,” you replied. “They love it.”

sept822

You started laughing then, with your mischievous glint in your eyes. Oh, kid! You got me good on that one!

Serves me right, prying into your sibling songs. You keep them secret, Sept. You kids deserve to have your songs for yourselves.

Your loving, gullible dad with the happy black snake-hair,

Pops

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