ABSTRACT
When my son, Michael, was three he turned into a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Right in front of my eyes, as he looked at a book on dinosaurs, his face, body, and voice changed. He loved everything about T-Rex from the powerful legs that it used to pound after any other dinosaur that crossed its path to the nine-inch-long razor-sharp teeth that could rip apart its dinner before gulping it down. Michael seemed to become this ‘king of tyrant lizards’ when he strode on his tip-toes, held up his first two fingers, and roared. Even at the dinner table he pretended to be this creature as he ate his food with his first two fingers and his teeth.
