Packages

So after yesterdays post, I woke up to the doorbell this morning to find not one but 2 packages waiting for me. One was an awesome one from Denise with 3 (yes 3!) giant bags of jerky (I really like the steakhouse brand by the way) and 2 bags of flavor blasted goldfish in it. It was pretty awesome I have to say. I let Ryan have a few goldfish and I think he really liked them. The other was the much anticipated arrival of Ryan's birthday present. Needless to say I've already looked at all the books because Dr. Seuss is pretty much awesome. The German book I actually took the time to try to translate (with the help of Google Translate). I was smart enough to type it in Word and so I can actually share the story with you. It's a pretty cute story I think, and I'm sure Ryan will love it seeing as there are zebras on every page.

A Zebra Is A Zebra


It was a zebra. It looked like a zebra. It looked like all the zebras in his zebra herd. A zebra among zebras. Only slightly smaller, it still was. It was young and knew this and knew that. But it did not know much and wanted to know more. One day it saw an animal that was similar but still looked a little different.

“What kind of animal is that?”

“That is a horse,” answered an adult zebra in a tone as if to say: we know that.

“ Why?”

“ Why what?”

“Why is it a horse?”

“The horse is a horse and a zebra is a zebra. Look at yourself. -So, now go and eat so you'll wake up and grow up.”

The answer was not enough for the young zebra. It asked, “Am I a zebra, because I have white and black stripes, or do I have black and white stripes because I'm a Zebra?”

“You ask too many questions!” said the adult zebra. And then it said nothing more. So the young zebra put the questions to himself, thinking. It thought this way, “I am a zebra. I have stripes.”

And it wondered if it had black or white stripes. It wanted to know if the white spots were white stripes on a black coat or if the black spots were black stripes on a white coat. Or so thought the zebra, the white could simply be white gaps between the black stripes.

The zebra liked its reflection. “Am I white, or am I black, or am I both together, or…

…am I neither?” The stripes question occupied the zebra to such an extent that it could think of nothing else.

The color question troubled it even in sleep, and it dreamed black and then again white and then again black-white mixed up – not beautifully arranged in stripes.

In the zebra’s dreams appeared all manner of forms. The stripes dissolved from him and did what they wanted with themselves.

When the zebra awoke it did not know whether it had actually met strange animals or if it had just dreamed it.

The others looked at the little zebra and saw that there was an uneasiness about him. The adult zebras were afraid, something did not agree with them.

“Are you sick?” they asked.

“No, I am not sick. I am thinking.”

“Oh,” thought the big zebras and said, “Oh! Then stop thinking.”

And hence the young zebra thought, and so it thought, “If I get rid of the stripes then I get rid of the problem.” So it simply wished the white stripes away. That was not so easy. It was very tiring, the wishing away. When it had succeeded, the other Zebras asked, “Who are you?”

Why did they say, “Who are you?” The young zebra let his head hang. And it wished to himself for the white stripes back. What should it do? It was very tiring, the wishing back. It closed its eyes and wished and wished until the wishing succeeded. Now it was suddenly quite white.

“Who are you? Are you a white horse?” asked the big zebras.

There was the zebra again very sad. It kept itself apart from the flock as if it did not belong. It ate sullenly. And it did not know enough, now it wanted to know what to wish for. One day many months later, it finally knew what it should wish for. And it wished for itself its wish. This time the wishing was even more difficult, the wishing lasted many days.

With wishes there is almost always a little fear.

But the wish complied. The zebra was satisfied, it was pleased with itself. The other zebras looked at it and said almost nothing. They only said, “There, you are back.”