Wonderment of a Grown Woman

The other day, I read something by g which I did not want to read:

Did you know that the sound you hear when you put a sea shell to your ear is the echo of blood flowing against your tympanic membrane (aka your eardrum?)

My response was something like this:¹ "G, I can't believe you, dumb bitch. You are so wrong. The tympanic membrane actually hears sound waves and does not emit sound."

But I really did not mean it. You see, there are some things you have to believe in, even if they may not be based in truth. Sea shells, for instance. I can remember the joy I felt when I put my small, pink ear up to a sea shell and listened to the ocean. I heard the ocean, my little toes wiggling in the sand with excitement, me just wondering how the ocean stays inside of shells. I needed to believe that the ocean resides in these shells, and thus, I still believe in them.

Similarly, I always believed in the Tooth Fairy. Now I cannot remember my last tooth, but when I tucked it under my pillow, I knew the tooth fairy would come. To me, the tooth fairy was much more plausible than Santa Claus² or the Easter Bunny³. I mean, look at the volume that those two have to do each year. Santa gives toys to millions on the same night. And the Easter Bunny has to hide eggs for all boys and girls, not just the good ones.

The bad thing about the Tooth Fairy, however, is that she doesn't seem to get a break. Little kids seem to loose teeth at all times of the year, not just on specific days. If she calls in sick, is there a junior fairy she can call to do her work for her? I wonder.

The bottom line for me is that we need to still wonder at the world, and it seems to be more of a child's prerogative to wonder. As an adult, wouldn't it be grand to have something like a fuck fairy. Let's say you were masterful in the bedroom one evening or morning. Wouldn't it be grand for the fuck fairy to give you a little treat like a piece of candy, or a single flower? It would be her way of saying, "Saw the fuck and it was masterful. Thanks for paying homage to screwing."

Not all wonderment is innocent, after all.

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¹My real response was this, "Okay, I think sea shells do capture the sound of the ocean. I need to believe it." I am not that much of a bitch. And she is no bitch. Really. Read her. She is a writer. I love writers.
²Santa, I believe in you, too. I just am writing something and this seems to lend itself to my point. Loved the fuzzy slippers; I always love the fuzzy slippers.
³I sure am glad that bunnies can't read, even if they can make nugget-filled eggs and deliver to millions of yards per year. And I don't like the Easter Bunny playing favorites with the president's lawn. Pisses me off.