The Christmas season brought me a bar of dark chocolate that was perfectly awful. Bitter is not a strong enough word for the awfulness that clung to my taste buds. After gasping and gulping water, I told the Dear Hubs that he too should share in the experience. He took the tiniest bite which was immediately followed by a look of horror and a quick grab for the Crystal Light.
Our son, Mitchell, declared that he loved all chocolate and asked for a bite. I warned him of the impending gag and then offered him a teeny piece. He put the piece on his tongue and in mere seconds was rubbing that same tongue with a paper towel.
"Mommy!" he declared. "That tastes like soil! Who would even eat that? Who would eat that on purpose?"
"I don't know." I answered honestly. "I am sure there are people that think that tastes really good."
"Oh yuck! Maybe like people that live in Africa or something."
"Mitchell! Why would you assume that people in Africa would like that?"
"I don't know. I mean there are giraffes there and they eat just anything. And, lions. Lions eat whatever too."
I looked at him. I was confused.
Sensing my confusion, he proceeded.
"Our maybe like Japan people. Maybe that might like it."
"You know kiddo, you are Japanese."
Mitchell looked at me completely shocked and said, "What?"
"You. You are Japanese."
Mitchell looked from me to his dad and back again. He giggled and said, "I am a Japan people?"
I so wish that more people could view the world with his innocent eyes. I wish more people would look beyond their prejudices and see people from the inside out. I was stunned by the simpleness of Mitchell's discovery and how it completely baffled him. He sees people as people and does not classify them into descriptive categories. To him, we are Mom and Dad. We are not Caucasian and Japanese. I love that! What a place this world would be if we had more mutts and less labels.