But as firmly as Ben is ensconced in the world of imagination his body is planted in the physical one. This morning John said it is time to teach him to shave. Shave! As in with a razor. He still barely looks both ways when he crosses the street, not that there aren't jaywalkers in New York with full beards who do as much. "Go ahead and hit me. I'll sue." 

Ben is a paradox of innocent and growing, unselfconscious and self aware. He both enjoys hummus with whole grain chips and scarfs down jelly beans. 

But maybe we are all a mixed bag. I want to be magnanimous, really I do, but when it comes to letting someone else have a good seat at the theater I... well... budge a little. My attention is on the annoyingly tall people in front of me, not the insignificant short people behind me. I want my friends to have wonderful lives, but when they elaborate about it on Facebook I roll my eyes. "Really? Another trip? Did you even unpack from the last one?"

When marriage begins our partner's wishes are paramount. If they want Italian food we suddenly love it too. If they prefer a quiet night at home so be it. But somewhere along the way our own preferences start to jiggle lose, and it gets harder to ignore them. 

Maybe I could get Ben to show me an episode of Toadette. She could teach me a few things. 

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