Middles

This is Pooka. He’s made out of a pom-pom, pipe cleaners, and a scrap from an old sock.

Shep came up with the concept all on his own and assembled all the parts this weekend. He hardly told us what he was doing, he was just working furiously on something. Tom helped hot glue a few pieces together, and I helped cut the sock to fit the pipe cleaner shape Shep had bent.

Then all of a sudden he appeared and it was done. And done really well. A little homage that fits in the palm of your hand.

I don’t know what to say about Shep lately—it’s like he’s moving at double-time. I can see him thinking, but instead of just pondering, it’s like whizzing and whirring in his head. Which is somewhat contradictory, as he’s a really laid back kid.

Tonight, as I was tucking him into bed, he said, “Odd numbers have middles.”

“What?” I replied.

“Odd numbers have middles. But the evens don’t. No middles.”

It had been a long day, and I’m not much of a math person. I had no idea what he was talking about. In my head, I was picturing the number itself. I was imagining the literal numbers, with no discernible visible middle. My mind was racing, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

“Explain it again,” I asked, my head hurting a bit.

He held up four fingers. “Four—two and two. See? No middle. Two—one and one. No middle. But five? Two and two and then three is its middle.”

And then he went on and on giving me the examples of numbers and their middles (or lack of a middle).

“How do you know this? Did you talk about this in school?” I ask.

“No,” he replied. “I’m just programmed.”

Can you hear the whizzing and whirring?

(I should include the fact that tonight, on top of all this thought-provoking thinking, he also clocked Neko for the first time in his life. So, um, there’s that, too. Can’t win ’em all, eh?)