She said it was wiggly.
But how? She just turned five.
She has a vivid imagination. Fanciful.
It was wiggly.
Oh my, we said. Soon you will lose it and—
I know, I know, she sighed, in her world-weary sixteen-year-old-five-year-old way. You put it under your pillow and the tooth fairy brings you cash.
Ernest Hemingway once said that it is the writer’s job to tell the truth. In A Moveable Feast, he describes his process:
“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
I am sharing here one of the truest pieces of writing I have ever seen.
The background: When he was small, our younger son often went with my husband to church early on Sunday mornings. The little fellow sat in the church office and busied himself with writing sticky notes that he delivered to me on my arrival.
I saved them – they’re all in the bottom of my jewelry box.
This one is my favorite. As you can see, the note says “I like my mom.”
Not love, mind you . . . .
But this is a two-pager (see the staples?). The sentence continues on Page Two:
“I like my mom – most of the time.”
I ask: Has a truer sentence ever been written?