Bailey was a bat.
He was a curious bat.
The kind of annoyingly curious bat whose curiousity could not be satisfied by the answers his parents gave him.
"Where do the flowers' smell come from, mommy?", he'd ask.
"From the petals, dear", she'd say.
"But where do the petals get the smell?"
"From the plant, my love."
But no answer was ever enough for little curious Bailey, and so he would ask and ask and ask, and his Mom and his Dad would answer until he got distracted by something other than his endless pit of unanswerable questions.
One day, Mom found a way to distract Bailey. She brought a beautiful, yellow little flower into the cave where they lived, and she put it to Bailey's nose.
"Here, sweetheart. Why don't you try to discover where the smell comes from?"
Bailey was extremely happy.
He grabbed his flower, gave his Mom a grateful hug, and stumbled into a private corner to study his flower.
He stuck his nose in it and sniffed hard and then harder, trying to take it all in. He then licked the petals softly, and then the center of the flower, and then the stem. Then he counted the petals, and carefully picked them out with his tiny paw. There were five: he saved two carefully under a rock for later review, then used his saliva to glue one to the wall of the cave for reference; another one he crushed under a little stone to study its composition, and the fifth one he ate.
This was the first of many scientific experiments that Bailey would make. His Mom and Dad were very pleased: as he discovered everything, not only had he stopped asking questions, but he began sharing his multiple and growing knowledge with his family members. He had discovered the source of the smell of flowers, and then that of the color of the leaves in autumn, and the shapes and sizes of different kinds of berry and then also a mystery regarding the different lengths of bats' hair.
But Bailey hadn't had a chance to solve the mystery that he found most interesting of all.
You see, Bailey was also a very young little bat. So young in fact, that he still couldn't fly.
And he so wanted to know how it was done, that he observed his parents and uncles and brothers and aunts, looking for an explanation in the majestuous flapping of their powerful wings, he observed them carefully as they soared the skies at night and quietly studied them up close as they hung from the ceiling of the cave during the day, sleeping. But still he couldn't find the one answer he desired most.
He was a curious bat.
The kind of annoyingly curious bat whose curiousity could not be satisfied by the answers his parents gave him.
"Where do the flowers' smell come from, mommy?", he'd ask.
"From the petals, dear", she'd say.
"But where do the petals get the smell?"
"From the plant, my love."
But no answer was ever enough for little curious Bailey, and so he would ask and ask and ask, and his Mom and his Dad would answer until he got distracted by something other than his endless pit of unanswerable questions.
One day, Mom found a way to distract Bailey. She brought a beautiful, yellow little flower into the cave where they lived, and she put it to Bailey's nose.
"Here, sweetheart. Why don't you try to discover where the smell comes from?"
Bailey was extremely happy.
He grabbed his flower, gave his Mom a grateful hug, and stumbled into a private corner to study his flower.
He stuck his nose in it and sniffed hard and then harder, trying to take it all in. He then licked the petals softly, and then the center of the flower, and then the stem. Then he counted the petals, and carefully picked them out with his tiny paw. There were five: he saved two carefully under a rock for later review, then used his saliva to glue one to the wall of the cave for reference; another one he crushed under a little stone to study its composition, and the fifth one he ate.
This was the first of many scientific experiments that Bailey would make. His Mom and Dad were very pleased: as he discovered everything, not only had he stopped asking questions, but he began sharing his multiple and growing knowledge with his family members. He had discovered the source of the smell of flowers, and then that of the color of the leaves in autumn, and the shapes and sizes of different kinds of berry and then also a mystery regarding the different lengths of bats' hair.
But Bailey hadn't had a chance to solve the mystery that he found most interesting of all.
You see, Bailey was also a very young little bat. So young in fact, that he still couldn't fly.
And he so wanted to know how it was done, that he observed his parents and uncles and brothers and aunts, looking for an explanation in the majestuous flapping of their powerful wings, he observed them carefully as they soared the skies at night and quietly studied them up close as they hung from the ceiling of the cave during the day, sleeping. But still he couldn't find the one answer he desired most.
