Evidence of Body

For the past month, the kids in Miss M.'s class have been learning about the body. They've learned about their organs and what they do and where they are. Two class doctor/parents have come to visit - a cardiologist and a pulmonologist. They've learned songs like "kidneys clean and filter blood" to the tune of "Mary had a little lamb". And they've made lots of art. She brought home these two self-portraits which were accompanied by the following dictated self-description:

I am big, I am a coconut.
I have legs, feet and a
body. My hair is gold, my
eyes are blue.

It slays me. It leaves so much out, yet veers into poetry. And it gets away from physical description into state of being: the "coconuts" are the pre-K class at her daycare. She's very into being a coconut; she tells random strangers "I'm a coconut" to their befuddlement. The "coconuts" are the big men on campus - the biggest kids at her daycare. And despite the fact that she's so ready for and excited about kindergarten, I'm ever so slightly tinged with worry - she won't be the big one anymore. She'll be one of the younger kids in the class because of her November birthday, and even though she's tall and sturdy, I wonder how well she'll keep up.

I have three months to get used to this.