Hoo-sus Poo-sus

We've been homeschooling for almost two years, and that means that Henry is the only one of my kids I have watched learn how to read from the start. At least... that's what I thought.

After witnessing the process, I think I can't really say I "taught" him how to read. At best, I escorted him through the experience. Language is such a funny thing... the speaking, and the reading, and the writing... it is far more organic than I had realized.

I suspect that none of the girls' teachers actually "taught" them to read any more that I taught Hen.

One of the interesting things is the part where the reading level of the brains of the kid outstrips the words they actually know. That happened to Henry the other day.

We were on our way to the Land with our little Yorkie dog, Alice. She'd just gotten a haircut the day before and was shivering a little. Henry was sitting behind me in the van, trying to warm her up, and I overheard him say, 

"I'm gonna warm you up, Alice!" He waved his hands around and pronounced  "Hoo-sus Poo-sus! You're WARM!"

"Hoo-sus Poo-sus?" I asked. The words sounded odd, but right at the edge of my understanding, the way that he'd said them.

"Yeah! Hoo-sus Poo-sus! Abracadabra!"

"Where did you read that?" I was laughing by now.

"Calvin and Hobbs, he says "hoo-sus poo-sus and does magic!"

HOCUS POCUS! 

It's the hazards of not enough Bugs Bunny in the lives of children.

I admit, I've been saying it as a pretend  swear word ever since.

Knife

The words
of your life
have been written,
but those words
never touched
on my grief.
That sorrow
I wear in my back
like a knife.
A burden
I cannot shift.
It twists
between my wings
on its course
to my heart.