I'm lucky to lead a life where there are so many questions left unanswered at the end of each day. I mean, truly, what would occupy my mind if not for all of these little mysteries?
Example: The last time I saw this car, it was half buried in the ground and about to be covered in a layer of fall leaves and 5 or 6 snow storms. I thought it was a goner, sure to be found only by some archaeologist in 10,000 years.
Yet, somehow it survived and miraculously reappeared yesterday--more or less clean--on our end table. How did it get there when I wasn't even aware that the Kid had been in the backyard that day? Why did it deserve to get rescued at that particular moment when it had been passed over so many times before?
And then there's this Liam and his wizards. On the nights I put the Kid to bed, I enjoy letting him talk for a few minutes before we get to the "no, seriously--close your eyes" stage. Monday night he very intently put his nose to mine and said, "Liam was wrong about the wizards."
"Mama, will you sing to me?"
"But I'd like to hear more about Liam and the wizards."
"Sing 'London Bridge' now, please."
And that was all I was going to get out of him about that. Is Liam a Hogwarts drop-out? Could he introduce me to Gandalf? What kind of an opportunity did I miss, here?
Maybe the wizards brought the car back from the future, but the Kid can't tell me much about it for fear of messing up the time-space continuum?
As you can see, I have a lot of fun imagining up answers to these small mysteries.