Wondering me
I wonder, wonder, wonder, all day long. My dad says I’m a “wonder
machine.”
I wonder how my dog knows I’m home from school even before I open the
door.
I wonder about people. Why are some people left-handed?
I wonder about myself.
I wonder why I yawn.
I wonder . . . both food and air enter my mouth. How does my throat know
where to send food, where to send air?
I wonder why I hiccup.
I wonder why cutting my hair and nails doesn’t hurt.
I wonder why the “funny bone” in my elbow tingles.
I live in a wonder-filled world. There is much for me to wonder about.
I can wonder only because I have a mind, because I can think.
Why does my “funny bone” tingle?
Why are some people left-handed?
How does my throat know where to send food and where to send air?
