HE'S TURNING INTO A DINOSAUR

HE'S TURNING INTO A DINOSAUR

August 18, 2025

He growls now.
Unprompted.
Sometimes in joy.
Sometimes in warning.

When I lift him,
he lets out a low roar
dragging through his belly.

It isn’t a word,
but it has weight.
Like:
“EHUGHH™.”

“I’m here.”
“This is my phone.”
“READ.”

He charges at windows
headfirst.
Climbs onto my chest
and yells in my face.
Then laughs.

He stomps when excited.
Throws food like a king
returning a plate.
Points at birds
like he's calling them out.

He used to be a baby.
Now he’s a raptor who demands to be read to.

A wild, apple-eating,
snack-demanding burst
of ancient joy.

Maybe he’s not turning into a dinosaur.
Maybe he’s remembering.
Maybe we all start as something else
before we learn how to fit in.