Blurbs by Broberg:

You know the saying “I have eyes on the back of my head?” 

I’m sure a lot of you do and have heard your parents say it just as I have. So, why am I bringing this up?

Well, my 8-year-old has taken it up a notch. She’s taken it to an entirely new level.

As I sit here writing away to my heart’s content, she is hiding in her sleeping bag she placed delicately on my office floor this morning, questioning me repeatedly if I can see her. 

I, of course, responded with that age-old quote. “Yes, I have eyes on the back of my head”

I could almost hear those wheels and cogs beginning to turn and spin in her wonderous noggin. “How about now?” She questioned after moving her sleeping bag to another spot where she thought I couldn’t see her (I could out of my peripherals). 

I sighed, a little exasperated at her questioning because, well I’m trying to get my work done so I can help them get started with their Easter egg dying and stuffing. 

“Yes, I have eyes everywhere,” I said.

There went the click.

“So your feet have eyes? If your feet have eyes, your legs must,” she begins to ramble.

In effort to stop the flow of questions, and in hope I can get back to work, I suggested that she stop and think about what it would be like to have eyes on the bottoms of her feet. 

That did not stop her incessant questions. “What do the insides of your socks look like?” She pondered.

“I don’t know, what do you think they look like?” I responded.

“Soft. Fluffy.” She said after giving my question a decent amount of thought. 

“Well, there you go then.” I said turning back to my computer.

“Your arms must have eyes too, and your tummy.” 

At this point I just hang my head. I wonder if she genuinely sees me as one of God’s Seraphim or a scorpion or something. 

Or maybe they are just invisible eyes to her? I don’t really know.

“What do you think it would be like if you had eyes everywhere?” I question.

“It would be cool. I could see the inside of my clothes. I could see EVERYTHING.” 

“Do you think your clothes would poke your many eyes?”

“No,” she says with a giggle.

“What if seeing everything was scary?” 

“I would just be brave.”

Quite frankly, that was a great answer and I am quite proud of her for that. She is often quite sensitive and dare-I-say dramatic, but there are times where she is quite brave.

And I suppose her range of big emotions and being willing to show them regularly is also quite brave of her. In a more non-traditional sense.

She’s not brave when it comes insects or reptiles, but she is brave enough to be her quirky self and I admire that. Even when I am overwhelmed with her constant questions. 

I may not have my “why?” child – the one who asks “why?” to absolutely everything – but she’s definitely a close second to that. 

“Mom?” Oh boy, here we go again. 

“When will I get eyes all over like you?” She inquires with an air of awe about her.

“Well, I suppose it shows up when you become a mom.” I suggest.

“I can’t wait!” She says as she wiggles back into her sleeping bag like a case moth or a bagworm crawling into their cocoons.

I think she deserves an award for some of the questions she comes up with. And I am likely going to need some assistance to answer them.