I’ve long believed that we seriously underestimate kids. Hanging around with my friend’s daughters who were 2, 3, and 5 when I was in college was really illuminating as I found myself interacting and conversing with his (admittedly smart) 2 year old daughter on a level that we often wouldn’t even attempt with highschoolers.
I have a very clear memory of being nine years old, reading an autobiography about a family who adopted several kids. At some point they became stranded in an airpot. Don’t worry though! It was no problem the author (and mother) helpfully pointed out, because nothing fascinates a nine year old like riding the elevator up and down for hours. What a load of crap, I thought to my nine year old self. It’s like that mom thinks we’re mentally disabled or something.