John and I were digging around in the garage this weekend and came across a project I made in first grade. It’s a book, called All About Me. Six-year-old Katie filled in all the blanks and illustrated with great care.

If you’re interested, things I liked included the color pink, my birthday and my family. Things I didn’t like included green beans and my sister touching me. (In my illustration, it actually looks like my sister is smacking me in the face. Peg, do we need to talk?)

It was funny to sit with six-year-old John and go through this. He looked at each of my pictures and in some cases interpreted them for me. He was very interested in knowing about my teacher and my friends. I didn’t like a boy named Louis, and John wanted to know why, why, why.

This was a conversation in which we were equals. Just chatting about six-year-old concerns and priorities.

It was interesting from a grown up perspective, too.

I’ve been wondering why John’s handwriting looks like charcoal sticks thrown at the page when so many of his friends write like little typewriters. Turns out, I had exactly the same handwriting. I also spend a lot of time thinking about whether the way John is now will have any bearing on him as a grown up. He’s argumentative, for example. Lawyer? He loves sports. Coach? Turns out when I was six I wanted to be a dancer. I don’t think there could be any possible career less suited for grown-up me.

I guess I shouldn’t be reading too much into anything that’s going on right now.