Nanu's Grand Theory of Speed Bumps (and Dad's Brainwave)

Alright, folks, gather 'round! Your resident storyteller (that's me, Prashanth, Nanu's official documentarian) has another gem from the mind of my brilliant six-year-old, Nanu. You know, the kid who probably thinks more deeply about the world than I do, especially when it comes to asphalt obstacles.

The Morning Rush (and a Bump in the Road)

So, a couple of days ago, we were doing the usual morning school run. You know the drill: "Dad, are we there yet?" mixed with philosophical musings on why clouds look like dinosaurs. Total chaos, but my favorite kind.

As we zipped along, I hit one of those glorious speed breakers (Nanu calls them "speed bumps," which is honestly more accurate and less threatening-sounding, but I digress). And by "hit," I mean I probably took it a tad faster than I should have. The car gave a healthy thump-thump, and Nanu, in his infinite 6-year-old wisdom, piped up with something that initially just made me chuckle.

The Profound Proclamation

He was just sitting there, buckled in, probably still thinking about dinosaur clouds, when he dropped this absolute mic-drop moment on me:

🗣️ Nanu said: "if we go fast this will become big and if we go slow it will become small"

My immediate thought? "Bless his little cotton socks. That's adorable but makes no sense. The speed bump's size is, you know, fixed." I probably even gave a little dismissive pat on his head, totally unaware I was in the presence of a burgeoning philosopher.

Dad's Head-Scratching Moment

I went about my day, dropped Nanu off, and picked him up, still thinking about his cute, nonsensical comment. I mean, how can a speed breaker change its size? It's a solid, unmoving object designed to make you slow down. Simple physics, right?

Wrong.

The Epiphany on the Return

It wasn't until I was driving back home, alone, retracing our route, that Nanu's words started to echo in my mind. I approached the same "speed bump." This time, consciously, I slowed right down, almost to a crawl, before gliding over it.

And then it hit me. Like a slow-motion, gentle realization, not the jarring thump-thump from earlier.

He was a genius. I was the stupid one!

When you hit that lump of asphalt at speed, it feels massive, a jarring obstacle that rattles your teeth. It feels big. But when you approach it slowly, gently, it barely registers. It feels, for all intents and purposes, small. It loses its impact, its perceived magnitude.

The Genius of Nanu (and the Stupidity of Dad)

Nanu, my 6-year-old, had articulated a profound truth about perception and reaction that I, a full-grown adult, had never consciously put into words. It wasn't about the physical size of the speed breaker; it was about how we experience it based on our approach.

Seriously, how many times have I just rumbled over these things without a second thought? And here's Nanu, teaching me a lesson in both physics and perhaps, a metaphor for life's challenges. If you rush through them, they feel huge and overwhelming. If you approach them with caution and slow down, they become manageable.

Wow. Just… wow. My kid is going to make me look at everything differently, isn't he? And honestly, I'm here for it. This digital scrapbook is getting thicker with wisdom every day! 😂

---

📝 Dad's Note: At first thought is it true, but realized while in return