As Martigan splashed in his bathtub the other night and I sat with him, he told me this story (which I have elaborated only in language, not detail):
Mads and I are on a walk one day when he falls into a puddle. But the puddle is deep, a hole, a well. As he splashes around, he turns into a fish. I scoop him up and run home with him. Once home, I set up the biggest fish bowl I can find and place him inside, fretting, begging him to become a boy once again. He grows bigger every day and soon, I must release him into the sea. Every morning, I sit in a boat, not far from the shore, drinking coffee, reading, hoping to catch a glimpse of my sonfish. (I know him by the pattern of scales on his belly spelling out his name.) Not every day, but occasionally, he swims close to the boat and lets me pet him, and I plead with him to turn back into a boy and come home with me. The sea is big; there are sharks in its depths. One day in my boat, I see not my sonfish, but my fear, a shark, who swims close to my boat. I am afraid and distraught until the shark leaps out of the water and I see the scales on his belly--M.A.D.S. But now my sonfish is too big and powerful to live so close to the shore. After petting him and speaking to him one last time, I tow him out to the deep, dark sea, the Mariana Trench. I cut him loose and watch him swim away. He leaps out of the water one last time in goodbye, and now he is a whale.
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| 5 years old & 34 years old |
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| 4 years old & 33 years old |
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| 3 years old & 32 years old |
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| 2 years old & 31 years old |
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| 1 year old & 30 years old |
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| Shelly's 29th birthday, with her greatest birthday gift |
