Train of thought
[Morning. I am in the shower. The girls are up and about — the five year old is on the loose in the living room, and the two year old is in her high chair finishing her yogurt. Their daddy is upstairs sleeping.]
My train of thought:
Oh, hot water, I think you might be my best friend.
Is that screaming? I can’t tell. Wonder what it’s about. Is it screaming or laughing? Definitely screaming. Huh, bet that’s going to wake up the daddy. But what could the screaming be about?
Still screaming. When he comes down, what awful scene will he come upon? Oh look, there’s a little 5 year old with an almost severed head. Huh. That is a terrible thought. What is wrong with my brain? And how could a severed head be screaming anyway?
How is it that a severed head can’t just go on living? They do on Futurama. Now that’s got to be confusing for the kids.*
But really, why doesn’t a head just stay aware and alive? Well, duh: the head needs the blood supply to keep running. Not just the brain either, but the eyes too and all the rest. But then how long does it take a severed head to shut down? I’ll bet those spectators at the public executions during the French Revolution knew exactly how long it took.
So the head needs the blood supply. And it needs the body to carry it around. And it also needs the body to do the whole reproduction thing. But what else?
Is the mind in the head? In the brain? Or is it in the whole body, in all the cells? Or is it somewhere else? Or is it nowhere?
OMG
WHERE IS THE MIND
…Quiet out there now. Order restored. Gotta love the daddy.
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I am astonished it took so much typing to get down about 1.5 minutes of wandering thoughts.
Also: where is my mind?
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* I don’t mean my kids. I mean kids in general. Who might get the wrong idea about the viability of a severed head from watching a cartoon. But then they know it’s made up, don’t they? I’ll bet they have no problem with that distinction.
We used to let the 5 year old watch The Simpsons and Futurama, from when she was a baby until she was three or so. She loved it. Probably something about all the bright colors and music and funny voices. But then there were a few, shall we say, Language Incidents.
Incident #1: she was joking around with daddy and said, in sly disagreement with him, “No it isn’t, you very bastard.”
Incident #2: she was on her way out of a room, and to say goodbye to her daddy and sister, she said “See you later, losers!”
HA! But yeah, no more Bart after that, and definitely no more Bender.