Epistle: To Shir, on the Occasion of Seeing Your Smile

Shir Shironet,

Oh, Shir. Where to start? You live in a world of extremes. Things are always wonderful or terrible, and usually both together. Nothing is ordinary. "It actually turns out that Monday is my favorite day of the week," you just told me. "Which is really weird."I asked why Mondays are good. "Because we end at 3:00," you answered. (That's early.) "And we have two hours of algebra and two hours of science." And that's good? "Yes," you assured me. "I'm really good at algebra."



Most days when you come home, you announce that you're about to die, that it was the most terrible day ever in the history of days, but GUESS WHAT? And then you tell me about some AMAZING WONDERFUL STUPENDOUS thing that happened, often involving cake.



"It was the worst day of my life, but it was great," you say, with absolutely no irony whatsoever. It is a gift, your zest for life, it is a gift that I hope you treasure.



You are the second child in the family, but you have carved out a distinct spot for yourself. The walls of your room are covered with pictures you've drawn or clipped from magazines. Sadly, you have also taken marker and spray paint to much of your furniture, but we're working on slightly tempering your artistic tendencies. You are incredibly social, and you are always looking for ways to earn money so that you can immediately spend it (often on cake. Or candy.).



You are quick to point out the unfairness of life. Any slight, real or imagined, is immediately magnified, dissected, and held up as an example of why you must have been somehow taken from your real family -- royalty, natch -- and left with... us.



Music is such an integral part of who you are, obviously. It's right there in your name, and you are nearly always listening to some song, singing something, bobbing your head, or talking about how this or that song or singer is the most amazing, but you're going to have to kill him or her but it's fantastic, but it's so horrible.



This is you, Shir, a study in contradictions. And I hope that you never change.



I love you.

Love,
Mommy