A little shop of horrors.

Today, we went to the airport, fairly early, in a surprise visit, to see my mother and sister off on their journey back home.

In the course of that visit, we passed a clothing shop, on the concourse. There were six of us: my mother, my sister, Syahidah, Ainan, Tiarnan and myself. Fintan was busy elsewhere. As we passed the shop, Tiarnan suddenly stopped and said: "Tacot" (spelling to be checked), which is Malay for "I am scared." What was he scared of? A mannequin stood before him, without an essential part of its anatomy. It was headless. Tiarnan found this apparition scarey. He tapped his chest in the symbol for fear and looked up at the unfortunate "person" before him. Why would a headless body be wearing a short-sleeved shirt in a shop, he may have wondered?

Then he noticed something at the other side of the shop and pointed: "There's the head!", he said.

Sure enough. At the other side of the shop, there was a head, on its own, without a body, wearing sun glasses. Tiarnan had, seemingly, found the headless one's head. He was somewhat relieved to have found the unfortunate mannequin's head for him, but I don't think he was entirely reassured that it was a sensible arrangement - to have one's head so far separated from one's body.

Tellingly, he wouldn't venture into the shop. He bypassed it carefully, leaving the headless and bodiless ones to their fate.

How funny it is to see an innocent child's reaction to modern marketing practices. Truly, it is a fearful thing to sell a shirt with a headless body - or to sell sunglasses with a bodiless head. Certainly, anyway, in the eyes of a twenty-two month old toddler.

He was happy to be led away to a less scarey part of the airport.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and no months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and five months, and Tiarnan, twenty-two months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

Changi Airport, Singapore: Hafiz's flight.

The other day, my wife went to the airport, with Tiarnan, nineteen months, to see Hafiz Osman, her brother, off to the Istanbul Contemporary Art Biennial, to which he has been invited, as an artist.

Tiarnan was most enthused by the airport, not having seen one before and was quite taken by the expanses available to simply just run and play.

His attention was, however, drawn by a mysterious doorway off to one side of the concourse. It was a strange place that had a power over people that he could not understand. From all over the airport, men would hurry to this doorway and disappear within. They would reappear some time later and walk out more slowly, in a rather more relaxed fashion. For him, this was most interesting: why were those men hurrying there? What happened beyond that magic rectangle in the wall? Why were the men different on leaving, compared to their attitude on entering? One can imagine all these questions going through his head.

He pointed towards the doorway and said to his mother, Syahidah: "Just go! I want to see!"

He was duly taken within and looked around. Reality did not meet expectation, yet he peered around curiously.

Upon leaving, his mother said: "It's just a toilet."

"Just a toilet..." he echoed, satisfied, at having seen it, but a little disappointed that the secret power he had noted was not as great as he had supposed.

Hearing this tale made me feel how even the littlest thing may seem magical to a very young child. They know so little of the world, that so much of it appears wonderfully mysterious - even a toilet in Changi Airport can seem strange and interesting when you are nineteen months old.

It is rather sad to think that, by the time they are adults most of these wondering children will have lost all sense of wonder and so nothing will seem magical anymore. I hope it doesn't happen to any of my children. Let them wonder, at life - lifelong.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and nine months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and two months, and Tiarnan, nineteen months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)