When I was small and formative, my mother kept a diary which kept track of what I said, when I walked, when I was sick and all concerns of the diaper variety.
I love reading them. I love her handwriting, slanted and swift; I love the parental zeal that drove that script on…I love my mother.
Oh, and I love that they were about me.
Anyway, this particular entry I found rather outstanding. It's dated August 15. I was 6:
"M. has been thinking about when she leaves home (I had thought she would wait until she was a bride,
'When I leave, I've been thinking I should look for a new mother who needs me, but she can't be Japanese or Spanish.'
Waiting with bated breath for this first indication of racial prejudice, I asked her why not a Spanish or Japanese mother??
'Because I don't understand the language'.
"Now why didn't I figure that out for myself?"
So. Prodigy or Oddity. What does the audience think?