He’s four, and because he falls into a dead sleep at 7:30pm each night he is able to spring from his bed fully awake and with the uncontainable energy of the most unholy alliance between Taz and pronking Springbok which can only be mitigated by the immediate sharing of information with his mother, who wakes (or would, if she could) in a much less enthusiastic manner.
“Mommy!” he screamed, “J is number ten!”
I glanced at the clock and found the time to be 6:02am. “Marumph?” I muttered.
He is of the school of thought that believes repetition at increasing volume aids understanding. “J, Mommy! J is ten!”
J was a person, I surmised. “Who’s J, baby?”
“No, J!” There’s no scorn like that of a pre-schooler toward his half-asleep mother. “J, J for jump!”
The possibilities of how the letter J could be ten ran through my sleep-fuzzed mind. “J is ten years old?”
He was done waiting for an intelligent response from me. “J is ten, E is five, M is thirteen,” he shrieked, demonstrating the action of the letter J just millimeters from my stomach. “And B is two!”
Finally I was almost awake and able to share his wonder — not at the fact that J was ten but that he’d even thought to match each letter to its corresponding number. “What’s W, honey?” He thought for a moment, computing silently as I ticked off the count on my fingers.
“Twenty-three!” He snuggled down into my arms. “I’m cold! Warm me up,” he demanded, and as I rubbed his little back and he prattled on I thanked whatever powers brought this child safely into my life, and I hoped that the same magic would work once again (Once! Once and then no more!) for his brand-new sibling born last week and placed directly in the arms of a very nice family who will with any luck celebrate the miracle of adoption while never forgetting the tragedy and loss from which it cannot be separated.
You have the makings of a cryptographer there. (Okay, maybe when he’s more than four.)
Or in rot13, “Lbh unir gur znxvatf bs n pelcgbtencure gurer.” (rot13 is where J is 23–for those of us put to sleep by counting the alphabet instead of awakened, rot13.com saved me counting on my fingers. For TMI, there are 25 other rotation cyphers, and if it wasn’t half past midnight here, you might have been saved my sharing those details.)
I can relate to this kid. He’ll go far in computers.
“placed directly in the arms of a very nice family who will with any luck celebrate the miracle of adoption while never forgetting the tragedy and loss from which it cannot be separated.”
You take my breath away with your ability to say exactly what needs to be said, in a mere handful of words.
Brava!
Wow…he knows them by heart at 4yo? I still have to count them on my fingers. I guess the cryptography world is safe from me.
That you can find pleasure in the delight of your child finding out that “J” is 10 in the wee hours of the morning, speaks volumes about your being a wonderful parent.