Seeing the Bird

On at least one morning every weekend, Patient and Tolerant, Giant Bird, and I go out to eat at a local restaurant. This restaurant has a lovely screened-in dining area where Giant Bird can sit in the sun. We've become regulars at the restaurant, so a lot of people recognize us. It's always fun when people don't, though, because Giant Bird loves attention and likes it when people make a fuss over him. I get amused by people's reactions when they see the bird affixed to me: many adults either don't see him as a bird (they imagine they are seeing a towel or a small bundle wrapped in white) or they don't think he's real at first. Children pretty much always see him as a bird, and know that he's a real bird, but I've heard mothers say to their kids, "Don't be silly, there's no birds in here!" and similar things.

Adults look through a larger filter of expectations and preconceptions than kids do. It makes me wonder what I miss seeing every day because my mind "knows" it can't be what it looks like.

This morning, Giant Bird ate about a third of a packet of butter (he just picked it up, cracked the plastic container like a nut, and scooped the butter out!), half of a packet of jelly (the same way), a piece of French toast, and a couple of bites of biscuit.