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With various social work trundled along its merry way, Astrid is formally adopted as Astrid Irene Adams, declared to be four years old with a birthday on March 30 for paperwork purposes, and successfully passed off as human to all prying eyes.
She grows and falls over a lot and maintains her orange coiffure and reads books and is generally precocious. The veganism and the aversion to salt and lipids persist.
Her fifth basketday approaches.
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bulrushes
bulrushes
"Okay." Pause. "I can be a floating thing. Can I be a swimming thing, how do I do it?"
asmyown
"If you are a floating thing you can be a swimming thing with some practice. I suspect that you could be a swimming thing even if you weren't a floating thing, though that would be quite a bit more difficult."
Carefully, Lynn starts showing her the basics of how to swim.
Carefully, Lynn starts showing her the basics of how to swim.
bulrushes
And Astrid carefully swims. She is not unusually gifted at it, but she manages the dog paddle.
asmyown
That's perfectly all right! More graceful forms of swimming will come with time and practice. Lynn praises her successes and corrects technique when necessary.
asmyown
"I don't think so. Lots of things float. Ducks, for example. That doesn't mean you're a duck."
But if she weighs as much as a duck, she's a witch. Har, har.
But if she weighs as much as a duck, she's a witch. Har, har.
asmyown
"Let's see, do you have any feathers?" Lynn pretends to check. "I can't find any, can you find any?"
asmyown
"Oh, dear! What about a bill, do you have a bill? Hmmmmm, no, that looks like a nose to me." Just to prove her point, Lynn pokes it.
bulrushes
"I got a nose job," says Astrid reasonably.
She spends much of her time around high schoolers who occasionally contemplate things they'll be able to do on reaching the age of majority.
She spends much of her time around high schoolers who occasionally contemplate things they'll be able to do on reaching the age of majority.
asmyown
"I am heartbroken," says Lynn, gravely. "What happened to your wings, dear duckling?"
asmyown
"Bad people! Why, I'd argue that they're worse than that. They are," she lowers her voice conspiratorially, "supremely aviophobic. And they're not even the ones flying!"
asmyown
"Aviophobia is the fear of flight. Usually it's when a person gets on a plane and goes flying, but I stretched the terminology a smidgen to mean fear of flight in general."