Resident Baby & The Big Mysteries
Me: So tell me again, what was it like?
Resident Baby: The place I came from?
– Yeah. Like, was it dark back there or full of light?
RB: You don’t remember? Didn’t you come from the same place?
– Well, yeah, everybody did.
RB: But you forgot what it was like?
– Everyone does, after a while.
RB: Really? You mean, I’ll forget too?
– I’m afraid so.
RB: Why?
– (shrug) It’s part of growing up.
RB: How long do I have?
– Hm?
RB: Till I forget.
– Uh, dunno. Nobody really knows when it happens. Personally, I suspect it happens with speech. A child learns language and forgets the other things. The earlier stuff. The mysteries. But that’s just a hunch. No one knows for sure.
RB: (thoughtful) Hmm.
– You look worried.
RB: What do you expect? You just told me I’m fated to forget where I came from!
– Maybe so, but you can describe it for me now, while you still remember. That way, even when you forget, I’ll remember.
RB: And you’ll remind me?
– Yeah.
RB: But wait a minute, how can you trust what I say? I mean, we’re not even really having this conversation. I can’t even talk yet, after all.
– So… what, you’re saying this is all in my head?
RB: Well…
– This discourse of ours, it isn’t even real?
RB: Well…
– Cause that hurts.
RB: Well, I’m just saying, I can’t even talk yet, so…
– You’re wiser than you know, kiddo. Can you just trust me on that? You’re a teacher.
RB: A teacher? I am?
– Yep, simply by being your bright-eyed, curious, squishable self. You can’t even help it. It’s just the way you are.
RB: (considering) Wow…
– So tell me, what was it like out there, before… You know, before the womb and all that?
RB: Well… (closing his eyes, thinking back) It wasn’t really dark, but not light either. …It was, like, all blues and pinks.
– In the womb, you mean?
RB: No, before that. It wasn’t really warm, but not cold either. There were, like, spots of light, maybe.
– Like stars?
RB: Sort of. Maybe.
– Could you hear anything? Were there sounds?
RB: It was silent. Wait, no, maybe there was, like, a hum.
– Did it all feel like water? Or more like air?
RB: Umm… It was a very settled feeling, I think. Peaceful.
– Wow.
RB: Pretty nice, huh?
– Yeah.
RB: But you know what?
– Hm?
RB: I’m glad to be here now.
– That’s a nice thing to say.
RB: No, but I mean it. Like, here we’ve got cookies, sippy cups, fuzzy blankets, storybooks, strollers, the park, the zoo…
– Mm. Simple pleasures.
RB: Yep. Those are what it’s all about. Those, and more complex pleasures when you’re older — symphonies, good novels, mango chutney. But it’s the same idea.
– So you came from where you came from in order to enjoy all those things?
RB: And to help you do so.
– I see. OK, that makes sense.
RB: Yep, but I also came to do this.
(Resident baby climbs up and gives me one of his irreplaceable Resident Baby hugs)
– Hey, thanks!
RB: I’m a baby. It’s what I’m all about.
– Well, I’m glad you’re here — and glad you’re glad to be here.
RB: Happy Father’s Day, Daddy.
– Yes it is. Happy and peaceful.
You may also enjoy:
