Page 14 of Flirtasaurus
“It’s called the internet. Not the interweb.”
All right, so clearly, Finn is my new pint-sized nemesis, and I am making no impression on him whatsoever. Ugh. Kids.
Don’t get me wrong, I like kids. I’m just not sure I “get” kids. I was never the girl who wanted to hold the baby in the room. Never the one who counted down the days until I could babysit. Certainly never the one who dreamed about being pregnant and pushing a watermelon out of my nether regions. Call me crazy, I guess.
All right. I’m going back in.
“So! Boys and girls, I’m crazy excited to be starting out on this journey together today. We’re going to learn so much about dinosaurs and the other creatures that lived alongside them over sixty-five million years ago. It’s going to be awesome! And every time we meet, we’ll have the opportunity to dig up some real dinosaur fossils! You can even take some of them home! How cool is that?”
My one and only girl in the group has been jamming her arm into the air so hard over the course of my little speech she looks like she’s going to dislocate her tiny elbow.
“Yes, Harper, what is it?”
“Um. You called us boys and girls.”
“I did, yeah.”
“Well, you shouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s offensive.”
“How is it offensive?”
“Not everyone identifies as a boy or a girl. Gender is a construct, and I don’t think you should be putting us into predetermined and generalized categories without taking this perspective into account.”
“Wow. How old are you?”
“Six and three-quarters.”
“Well. Thank you for that… perspective, Harper. I hear you, and I actually… You know what, girl? I mean, person? I agree with you. What do you think would be a better way for me to address you all moving forward?”
“Energetic creatures on Earth? Planet helpers and healers? Spiritual beings in human form?”
And… I instantly recognize the type of parents who are raising Harper.
“Solid ideas, my friend. How about I call you Diggers, though? Because that’s who we are while we’re together. We’re Dino Diggers on a mission to excavate and innovate!” I infuse my voice with that higher-pitched sing-songy tone people use when they’re trying to relate to children. I’m not so sure it’s working, but onward I go.
“Everybody has their picks and brushes?”
“Yes!” seven tiny voices yell.
“Aprons fastened and in place?”
“Yes!”
“Are we ready to discover some new dinos?”
“Yes!”
“Alright, Diggers! And three, two, one... go!”
They dive into their digging with a childhood exuberance I think I’ve been missing in my life, and I can’t help but smile. Hm. Maybe I can do this after all.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stand.
I always thought that was some lame thing people said. I never thought it actually happened. But honest to God, at that moment, the little tiny mammal hairs on my neck are lifting away from my skin. I turn around.
