this book, and to talk his mother into purchasing it, like, yesterday. Also a new X-Box controller.
My son, as you may know by now, loves animals. Not just looking at them or touching them or who could win between a roadrunner and a snake (my money's on the roadrunner), but just ... them. The whole of them, the interconnected, beautiful messiness of it all.
He was trying to share this with his friend. The friend believes dragons existed, dinosaurs and humans coexisted, and Venus flytraps are sentient and eat larger mammals, so it should have come as little surprise to David that the tree of life was a foreign concept. Still, he thought his friend would think it was cool. We're share an ancestor with chimps and gorillas and, further back, elephants and mountain lions. If you go far enough back, we're connected to everything.
"I'm not related to animals," his friend retorted.
"You are an animal," my son shot back. The friend's father took issue with this, and much discussion and nice-making ensued. The dad just sided with the friend against my son and shot him down. I only found out about it later.
"Well, I thought it was cool," he told me on the way home. "I'm proud to be an animal."
And you know? We talked about that at length, and I was going to recount some of it here, but just, here:
Tell me you're not proud to be an animal.