Deciding what is important and other things for kids to doMature

Hades stood atop Mount Olympus. He had won, he was successful. Victory was held firmly in his aching blue grasp, his Titan's laying low the defiant fist's of his sibling gods with a melting vitriolic fury, pouring out of their wretched elemental hearts. It smelled sweet, and he took a deep, deific breath: success, so long kept from him, forever a forbidden fruit swaying golden on the lowest branch of his brother's most fertile tree, mocking him as he strains against the fetters that restrained him, his wrists torn and bloody with struggle. James Woods cried out. Such magnificence in that voice. 

At least, that's what I would have thought, if I were a teenager watching Disney's Hercules; an avid reader who enjoys the works of Ayn Rand and who believes that anyone who says "haytch" instead of "aytch" when pronouncing H due to some lingering spectre of class snobbery that he really has no entitlement to, was a silly commoner.

But alas, no, I am not. I am a 1 year old boy, who goes by the name Artemis. I am as yet not aware that my name was ridiculous, and I am watching Hercules, one of the many many masterpieces by Disney. In roughly equal unison I was also wishing that I was old enough to understand having a desire to die, to end my life prematurely and to successfully enjoy a painless non-existence. None such marvellously existential thoughts came to me as I watched Hercules however, so I made do with constant screaming and crying as my very first tooth attempted to assassinate my mouth. 

What I was not privy to, at the time, was that in my culture, which I was also not yet privy to, celebrated the first tooth of a baby with a ceremony; a prophetic choosing, if you will, a divining. It is called something or other, I wasn't at the time doing well with the whole understanding thing. But, it seemed important, like a big deal in my life. I might have been thought it was another birthday if I hadn't had my mind on other things, such as whether or not the colours coming from the TV made shapes, or if I should instead focus more on fitting that dastardly square into that equally dastardly triangular hole, or indeed, drown myself in my juice bottle. 

The End

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