The Time Is Getting Late to Begin

Liam was born a little old man, that we all know. The first time I held him, I couldn't get over how much he looked like a scruffy Irish dockworker, with wise eyes that had seen much, and sideburns to boot. There's a passage in one of his Winnie the Pooh books that is truly profound. It reads,

"By the time it came to the edge of the Forest the stream had grown up, so that it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run and jump and sparkle along as it used to do when it was younger, but moved more slowly. For it knew where it was going, and it said to itself, 'There is no hurry. We shall get there some day.' But all the little streams higher up in the Forest went this way and that, quickly, eagerly, having so much to find out before it was too late."

Among many other things it reminds me of, that passage really sums up Liam and Brendan. Which is why it always catches me off guard when in the middle of a conversation Liam will say, "No, I don't quite understand," and I'll explain again and he'll look at me calmly and then say, "Blickly mlkcy gox box socks." Today that happened when he was talking on the phone to my mom. Fortunately she knows a lot about kids, otherwise that could have thrown her for a loop.