My sons gave me, as a Mothers’ Day gift, a pot with grass-like shoots.
“What seeds are these?”, I asked the teacher who had helped them.
“Wit!”, she replied.
“Yes, wit”, she clarified. Then added, “the children soaked it overnight, and planted it next day morning.”
It was much later that I realized she was merely mispronouncing the name of the cereal that forms my staple diet.
Wheat it was that they had planted. But how much better it would have been if it were really possible to grow Wit, and distribute it among certain people we cannot avoid.