The Five-Year-Old, pointing to clouds streaking across the sky on a recent trip to downtown Boston: “Daddyo, how is that even possible?”
(Photo Credit: Michael Howell)
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About Shala Howell
Writer of things ranging from optical network switching white papers to genetic testing patient education materials to historical fiction set in an 1880s asylum. When I’m not scratching my head over pesky characters who refuse to do things how I want them done or dreaming of my next book (which will of course be much easier to write and research than the current one), my writerly self can be found sifting through the stacks in my church’s archives looking for a few good stories to tell, blogging about life with a very curious Six-Year-Old at Caterpickles.com, or musing about books and the writing life at BostonWriters.wordpress.com.
Michael Howell
Shala Howell
He who first hears the question must be the first to answer it. Although “I don’t know. Let’s ask Mommyo” may be the best he can do.
xx gran
I would love to claim to be the brains of the family, believe me, I would. But I’m afraid past experience indicates otherwise. Happily for The Five-Year-Old, Michael’s past performance implies that he probably thought of something. Even better, he probably thought of something true.
Exhibit A: “Daddyo, have you ever made people eat food and then listened to their tummies?”
Exhibit B: “Do white blood cells have white blood in them?”
Exhibit C: “Daddyo, what did our ancestors grow out of?”
I rest my case.