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My Son Josh

 My son seems to know, now, that passivity is not always "the only option."


At bedtime, he walks to the stairs, nods at the safety gate, and looks at me until I press the "unlock" button. Then he hurls himself up the stairs, while cradling his elephant, and he throws himself into his bedroom. Sometimes, he seems to chant, "Bed, bed, bed, bed."

If I need to ring a doorbell, and I'm not doing my job, my son will widen his eyes and point at the doorbell.

Finally, for entertainment, he'll try to gnaw on a shoe.

These seem like small steps -- but, to a parent, it's like your son has crossed the Rubicon.

We're reading a great deal of William Steig stuff--"Doctor De Soto," "Sylvester," "Amos and Boris." Steig celebrates small creatures--often mice--who use their brains to triumph over brute forces (and the brute forces might be a fox, an ocean wave, a large ape).

Although Steig likes to write warmly about love and togetherness, his work also has a sense of absurdity and even a kind of "biting wit." He shows us an elephant with a toothache -- slurping warm coconut milk "through his trunk." Steig has Amos the mouse barking instructions to a whale -- but Steig stops to point out that "Amos was totally inaudible."

I love Steig and I love his trillion-year career -- and I'll end 2021 with a thank you to him. Well, maybe I'll write more over break. We'll see. (Happy New Year!)









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