It is a mid summer's day by the pool. I am with my brothers. School is out so, to me, the cloudless sky is a baby blue chalkboard that has yet to be ridden with the leftover dust of numbers and equations. Which leaves the sun to bake us like biscuits until we are golden brown and crispy under its rays. With this in mind, I turn to my brothers and ask, "if you could be any color besides what is normal, what color would you choose?" They both chuckle and one of them says, "You're such a child."

Now, to most, that would be an insult. But I invite it with open arms, and I embrace it. Because when was the cookie jar of childish characteristics labeled poisonous? Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it created the scientist. Playful is just a younger version of the word adventurous. And fascination and imagination are what make incredible writers. So don't you dare try to take that away from me.

Because you may think that this world is a beautiful place, but I believe it could be breathtaking. If you look at it through the microscope of a researcher, not searching for the right answer, but hoping to be proven wrong. Through the telescope of an astronomer, not scanning for old constellations, but creating his own. Or through the spyglass of a sailor, not looking for anything in particular, just praying for something other than the ocean water, the sky, and the line in between.

And when you're a child you have the potential to be any of these things because there are no grades that say you couldn't, no SAT scores that say you can't, and no college letters that say you won't yet.

So I look him in the eyes, and I say, "I'd be blue, like a smurf."