We’re in the car on the way to piano class. There’s a heavy sigh from the backseat—a bone-deep sigh full of longing.
“Sometimes,” says Rilla, “sometimes I wish I were a mantis shrimp.”
I’ll let you sit with that for a moment. I was baffled by this remark but Beanie knew at once what she meant.
“I know, right? Twelve color rods!”
And then they explained to me that human eyes have three photoreceptors, giving us sensitivity to red, blue, and green light. Mantis shrimp have twelve photoreceptors. Rilla was staring out the window, wishing she could see the world in more colors.
Well, That and the Platinum Record
The Down Side of Invulnerability
I think he means “with affection”