You are incredibly lucky, my little prince. *beams with pride, kissing his tiny crown*

Many people will tell you parables, peqeno demonio, analogies of caterpillars and butterflies in an attempt to provide a metaphor for existence. The notion behind this being that a period of relative ugliness will lead to something beautiful. *smirks* Unfortunately, though they mean well, they don't really comprehend this comparison and they will leave out the most important part- that being that very long phase in the middle in which the caterpillar has to become a sack filled with mushy, yucky, unidentifiable gunk...

Your mothers, we have had very difficult lives. *tilts her head, studying his tiny face* We've both been very unusual people, changing, growing, seeing the world through so many lenses- some of them better than others by far. At times, we've both been heroes in the stories of others. At other times, we've both been the villains. Many times, we may have thought we were one, only to learn shockingly- or shamefully- years later, we were most certainly the other. We have both helped others, and hurt them in ways we cannot repair...

*sighs, stroking his little spiky mane* Through it all though, mi demonio pequeno, we learned. Through all the hats we've worn, tu madre oscura y yo, through all of the experiences, we've learned. From a self-hating minister on mission trips out-of-country, to a carefree idiot sex-worker- doing as I pleased to a activist and voice of the devil, herself, I have been so many people, Edgar. Tu madre ardilla has likewise traveled from the church of yahweh to soldiery, from country to country, light to dark and back again, mi hijo. And yet, since we have met and loved *blushes, nosing his little face* and met you- we have grown even further, becoming better people, kinder, stronger, learning to love even more than we'd thought we could.

Through all of this, Edgar, all of this pain, this hardship, the trials of hubris and Epimetheus, watching friends die before our eyes, even dying ourselves, both of us, through all of these things, we grew to be these people we are today, your mothers. All of this knowledge, this wisdom we have gained, is for you, sweet princeling.

We will never mislead you. You will never be told the lies we were, my son. That burden will never be for you. You will walk in the light of The Baphomet, no knowledge being withheld from you, no truth or wisdom obscured. We shall be your torch-bearers- Our knowledge and wisdom will be your freedom, sweet child, a shield for you against the willful ignorance of the fearful of this world- and our love for you will be the waters to hold you aloft, always...

*smiles broadly, misty* He's our boy,  Sanita_Squirrel Our little prince.


Feliz seis mesas, mi amado hijo, mi Edgar Vincent. Happy Six Months. You're finally a full One-Half! Your mothers love you. Ave Lucifer, my son. *kisses his tiny tummy and grins ear to ear like a lovesick nitwit*