In the bathroom, my toddler son has sunk a piece of paper under water in a plastic tub. He peers at it, and declares the single letter and two scribbles on it to be his name, writ large.
What do you think will happen? I ask.
I think it will fly all the way up to the sky, he says. His arms lift with the emphasized all, his whole body certain. He pronounces sky like chai, like life.
Is that your hypothesis? I ask.
Yeah, he says, and he marches out of the bathroom and back, awaiting results.