"Sticks and stones may break my bones
but words will never hurt me"
Q7 is reading I Saw Esau which I bought a few years ago (or asked for) after hearing about it on NPR. It is a collection of childhood poetry, often silly, rhyming, jumprope-type songs. Q7 is up there enjoying some of it. But she called me up a minute ago and read the above poem to me and said, "Mumma. I think it is actually the other way around. Because words stay inside you," (tapping her sternum) "and a little hit?" (tapping her arm) "Remember my stitches? They hurt, but it doesn't hurt any longer."
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