On beauty

He is always in motion. Two years old, running laps. As part of his opening few weeks of preschool, the teachers their pickup-time refrain that he tired, will be tired, must be tired. It was a while before I inquired as to why they were saying this: because he never stopped moving. He would play with everything and everyone in the space without fail, without pause. One thing and one person and then another thing and another person. No, he is not tired, I told them: this is what he is like at home. He never stops moving. I had always presumed this was normal. Was this not normal? Does that make other children more focused, or slower? My wife told me not to worry. I was most likely the same; I am the same now. I can never stop moving. There is still so much that requires attention.