6 of 8 is a stage show all to herself. Charming, erudite, frilly, that's our girl. She seems to love being part of a big family, but I think she secretly suspects that she is the rock star and we are all staff and audience to her every performance.
6 of 8 has made a startling scientific discovery which I felt only appropriate to share here as we are trying to change the world one post at a time--or at least justify our time on the computer. The science is as follows.
"Mom," 6 of 8 tells me breathlessly. "Mom, I am all growed up!"
"Really? And how do you know that?"
"Well, when I pulled the scab off this owie I kindof cried, but when I pulled the scab off this owie, I was so brave! So now I know I am very big!"
There you have it, the non-flinching ability to remove one's scabs without tears--the true measure of a man (or woman...or 4 year old). But then I got to waxing philosophic---what if our willingness to pull back the layers of life and be willing to stare an emotional wound full on were a measure of our growth? What if there is value in unflinchingly tearing back to that raw place and letting the sun and light get to it and begin the healing? And what if, just maybe, I need to have a whole lot more coffee before I get this deep in the morning?