The big Question

"If I were an animal of my own choice, one of any size or shape with any type of voice, I would never know which one to choose." Grumbled Peter to his favorite part of the river on the day of 8th May. The river was extra beautiful that day but even the water with its muddy color couldn't make him feel better. That day when Peter went to school he had no idea that his wretched teacher would spat at him when he did not know the answer to this silly question. He could still see his old wrinkly face with the sweat on his forehead, his grey hair sticking to the sides of his head as he glared at Peter over his crooked glasses that clung onto the end of his enormous noes.

What type of animal? Gmf, Mr Groob really thought this was easy. How stupid could he be? He was supposed to be smart, wasn't he? All teachers are supposed to be smart. He thought angrily to himself as he kicked a small rock into the water. The sound it made was a lot louder than Peter thought and the silence that followed was deafening. The water made those amazing circles and he saw the most beautiful fish swim. The sunlight on the muddy water made him smile.

He bent down and took out his small fishing rod that his father had given him, he had to see one of those fish up close. After some time of waiting for a fish to bite he dozed off under the big oak tree. He dreamt of all the things little boys tend to dream off- frogs and fish and slimy things, flies and strings and eagle's-wings. He dreamt of skies filled with sun and boats on waters underneath. In his dream he was flying too, looking down at the amazing view bellow. He saw the rabbits lazing about in the green and beautiful meadow.

The singing of his fishing line woke him up at once and no time left wasted he ran and quickly had the most beautiful fish in his hands. Smiling from ear to ear he looked at it with wonder. He made sure to gently let it back to its water-world and only then did he realize how late it had gotten.

Very quickly he packed up all his things- making sure not to leave his little patch of heaven dirty- and ran home through the familiar forest behind his house. His house was not very big. He shared it with his dad after his mother passed away.

He couldn't really remember much about her but he can sit for hours listening to his father's memory of her. He once told Little Peter that his mother was taken from them way to soon. He said she flew away just like the most magnificent butterfly and disappeared into the mist.

That night when he sat at the dining table he was very quiet, more so than usual. In seeing this his dad asked him how his day was and what he did. Little Peter felt the heat rise to his cheeks. "Well Daddy, today was rather an uninteresting day with nothing special happening whatsoever." He brushed away his messy golden hair and looked away from his dad.

A knowing grin spread across his father's face. Little Peter shyly looked at his dad but when he saw him looking right back at him his eyes quickly fell back to his plate. He then told his dad the story, and it went like this;

"Today was nothing special dad. This morning I woke up to the ribbed-squawk of Mr Bullfrog outside my window and I just had to tell him about the amazing dream I had about the Mighty Lizard and how he finally took over the Lazy Crocodile's kingdom where he could now help all the different gazelle make better homes for themselves.

When Mr Bullfrog was tired of my story daddy he hopped away and I got ready for school. I wore my special socks daddy, the ones with the wolves on them." His father smiled as he remembered how Little Peter was howling as he ran down the stairs that morning.

"Daddy, I ate my food like a lion! I even growled at the porridge when it slipped just like a snail down my spoon." His father was laughing as his son showed him exactly what he did with his arms stretched out over his head and his hands in the shape of claws.

"On my way to school I was distracted by the birds flying above my head, Daddy, so I was walking very slowly- almost like that turtle we saw at the zoo Dad- but then I heard the school bell ring and I had to run like the fastest cheetah in the world. I fell down though Daddy," Peter looked down, feeling silly about his clumsiness.

"At school Mr Groob was angry with me. My clothes were dirty and I was late so he made me sit in the front of the class. He was spitting all over me just like those fat monkeys on television." This was where Little Peter became silent and his father's smile started to fade as Peter's frown deepened. Knowing his son needed a little time he patiently waited and ate his peas.

"Peter what else happened?" he asked kindly after some time. Peter swallowed hard on his food and looked down. "Mr Groob asked a question to the whole class, Dad. It was a very difficult question and he was extra angry when I couldn't answer it."

Little Peter didn't want to tell his father what the question was as he got into his tiger pajamas and climbed into his bed. Frowning and to say the least- worried- his father walked out of his boy's room. He made his way down the stairs and then his tired eyes fell upon Little Peter's book bag. He walked to it and took out Peter's homework book. He slowly paged through the book and smiled gently at his son's doodles of all the animals he himself had taught Little Peter. He finally got to that day's assignment and then he understood. On the top of the page there was only one question and a big red 'FAIL' stamp was in the right-hand corner. He read the question to himself and couldn't help but burst with pride at his son's answer.

The question was;

If you could be an animal of your own choice

One of any size or shape with any type of voice

One with scales or one with gills

One with tales or one with special skills

And you had nothing to lose,

which would you choose?

To which his son answered;

All of them.