Funny old thing isn’t it, another’s point of view. The cause of wars, injustice, hurt, division. Or the root of learning (about which I know a very small amount.)
Today was packed and full of different points of view, some easier to understand or digest for some than others.
I came home anticipating I wouldn’t see my daughter at all and there would be no opportunity to read before I ironically dashed out to my book group. But she grabbed the wooden alphabet frame that my mother had bought for her and in between her pushing it over just to enjoy the bang, we looked through the alphabet.
“what’s that Monkey-face?” (By the way, if it remains unclear to some, I don’t actually call her monkey-face, lest you have concerns for her self-esteem.)
“it’s an a”
And so on, until we got to D.
“what’s that monkey-face?”
“it’s a semi kirkle”
And there endeth the lesson on perspective