Mom, It's a Crikily!

Imanii had always been a gifted little girl. Bright and inquisitive at 2-years-old she was speaking in multiple word sentences and full of probing questions and astute observations. The wall wasn’t an erect structure of wood frame, dry wall and plaster but an artist’s canvas. Instead of paint brush and acrylic there were crayons and water colors. A bedroom was a land of make-believe where chairs & sheets were castles and her mother's clothes ball gowns. The sound of her clopping around in size 10 platforms and seeing her sashay by was even more entertaining.

Public outings were always...interesting. Nothing was off limits and everything had to have a comment or reason.

“Mommy, why is that lady fat?”

“Mommy, that tastes nasty!”

Her mother’s least favorite from Christmas, “Mommy, that’s it?”

Marie’s face went through a variety of configurations. Mouth being slack with amazement. Eyes wide in shock. Cheeks full with laughter. Exasperation caused the occasional sigh. Nonetheless, Marie did all she could to encourage and engage her curiosity.

Outside was a land of imagination and wonder. The duo went to parks, exploring the hiking trails or walking along streams to see tadpoles and fish. Outings were taken to the zoo, aquariums and museums. The front yard held no less magic.

What Iyana didn’t have the words for, she created.

“Look a crickily!”

“A what?!” Her mother looked at her in confusion and then noticed the twig in her hand.