It's a conversation that started on a packed subway train.
Sadie looked up at Joe and said in a clear, small, voice, "Joe, you have two chins." It was a simple statement of fact. The other riders had difficulty not bursting into laughter at her observation. Joe responded with, "And you only have one."
We thought that was the end of that. Then in church on Sunday, Sadie picks up the thread. "Joe you have two chins and Dave has two chins too!"
Joe, who was sitting beside Sadie, while Ruby was sitting beside me, just nodded quietly.
Sadie didn't take this as affirmation she took it as encouragement.
"But it's OK Joe because when I get really, really, really old. I will be bigger and I might might be bent over when I walk or I might be in a wheelchair, I don't know, but I know for sure I'm going to have two chins."
Sadie is five and she knows that in the very, very, very distant future, she will look differently and maybe move differently. She used this knowledge to establish solidarity.
Why can't others do that?