“Right...! ” <br />I try to explain it <br />with chocolates <br />that she(girlishly) <br />keeps trying to eat. <br /> <br />I pick a luscious <br />dark chocolate seahorse <br />And I say “Now this is...” <br />(and she finishes my sentence for me) <br /> <br />“...your hippocampus! ” <br />She squeals... delighted with herself. <br />“That’s correct! ” <br />I praise her <br />“...it’s shaped like this seahorse! ” <br /> <br />“And it controls <br />your memories of you <br />your “who you are” <br /> <br />your “how your self assembles <br />its sense of self <br />...with all its past and future mysteries! ” <br /> <br />“Yes...yes...that’s it! <br />She claps her hands <br />thrilled to bits <br /> <br />by the familiar telling <br />the reassurance of sounds. <br />And this twisted twirl of almond <br />with a real almond in the centre of it <br />“... is your amygdala! ” <br />She blurts out before me. <br />“You got it” <br />I smile. <br /> <br />“Everyone’s got one! <br />a seahorse
