paisley
Burps Liberty
Babies are easily pleased, but hard to impress. They have a natural sang froid that comes from the fact that everything…every single thing…is equally new to them. To a baby, the sight of Mt. Fuji would be no more astonishing than the sight of a yellow pillow. A crumpled bit of paper is just as complex as a video iPod. The discover of life on another planet would be less awe-inspiring to a baby than the discovery that he has hands.
They’re hard to impress, yes…but so very easily pleased. For a baby, picking up a Cheerio is the equivalent of graduating from college. Learning to crawl or scoot is as liberating as getting a pilot’s license. Standing up is tantamount to landing on the moon. Walking…well, walking is a miracle on the order of the loaves and fishes.
Babies are incredible, incredible in the original sense of the term. Their very existence stretches the boundaries of credulity. It is improbable that such creatures exist in our world. Surely the existence of Bigfoot is more probable than the existence of a baby.
Babies, of course, wouldn’t see it that way.
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