A child discovers her marvelous brain

My oldest grandchild is now 4 ½, and she delights me endlessly, notwithstanding the tantrums. The tantrums are understandable. It’s hard to imagine, at 63, the overwhelming brainwork of being 4. 
 
The world is an ocean of mystery, and you are at sea, floating, swimming, sailing, floundering. Language is a magical tool, and you’re only just beginning to understand how to use it, which must mean brain burnout from time to time. It also means that sometimes you come up with great wisdom, unfettered by convention.
 

• “Mom, can we sit down for a hot minute?” Fiona asks (Experimentation with new phrases is also fun).

 

• “Mom, while I’m pooping, can you tell me how they made the world?” No assumptions, no boundaries to curiosity (and I wonder who “they” might be, in her mind…).

 

• Fiona’s mom called me today with another story of the workings of a growing mind.

 
Nellie said something to Fiona about imagining a boat.
 
“I have two pairs of eyes,” says Fiona.
 
“You do?”
 
“Yes, sometimes I see with my other eyes.”
 
“Where are they?” asks Mom.
 
Fiona opens her mouth and points inside. Then she says, “no,” thinks for a second, and points to her forehead.  
 
“What do you see with those eyes?” asks Mom.
 
“You said boat, and I can see a boat up here,” says Fiona, pointing to her forehead again. “Unicorn. See, I said unicorn, and I saw a unicorn.”
 
Nellie marvels at this unfolding of thought.
 
“My brain talks to me,” says Fiona. “My brain is pretty cool.”
 
Indeed it is. Getting cooler by the minute.