This Kid (2)

This kid is six and a half.

He is Brynna's best friend and the happiest child I have ever met. His silliness is infectious. His smile lights up a room, despite his terrible cavities. His buoyancy rivals Brynna's -- perhaps one of the reasons they make such good playmates.

Or perhaps it is his robust imagination. He loves playing house. And dress-up. And hide and seek. And walkie talkies (He calls them "doki dokis"). 

Or perhaps it is because he lives a stone's throw away and lies in wait each morning for our front door to open. And stays until the darkness scares him home (or otherwise drags Brynna to his house). They have a blast together: giggling, bathing, running in circles, being silly silly silly.

He is a very picky eater. He hates anything I feed him, except for treats: freshly baked cookies, bagels, and chocolate are a-okay. He doesn't even like peanut butter or guacamole! I believe he doesn't really like real food because he munches on an unending supply of junk food: potato chips, ice cream bars, choco-bananas, candy, lollipops. You name it, if they sell it at the nearby tienda, and it's junk food, he's bought it and consumed it.

Oh, and he loves our Friday pizza! All the kids here love our Friday pizza tradition, but no one loves it like he loves it. Like most folks around here, he pronounces the word "pizza", "pik-za". I love how he says it.

He is fearful. Of the dark. Of crickets. Of dogs. Of the river. Of monsters. 

Some of his fear comes from watching inappropriate television. Early on, he asked us if there are really zombies in the United States. Godzilla as well. And ninjas, lots of questions about ninja. Another time he told us that when he saw some machines working behind our house, he said, dramatically, "las máquinas were here, it must be time for you to go".

He wants to do well in school but is definitely not meeting academic milestones. He is in first grade. I am proud to say that he can finally count to ten -- I have something to do with that skill --  but above ten, he gets lost. We have also been working on simple addition; while he finally seems to grasp the concept, he is still unable to add something like 3+2 without using manipulatives with me sitting right next to him. He also isn't able to sound out the five Spanish vowels yet, not even close to early reading skills. I am not sure if he has an undiagnosed learning disability or just lacks adult supervision. 

He is unbelievably charming. Omg is he charming! But he drives Jonah crazy. He is clumsy and uncoordinated, and he likes to touch everything, particularly the fragile Lego projects Jonah is deeply involved in.

He is teeming with questions. They come in quick succession, like balls from a batting machine. They inevitably begin, "Y Verito, por que. . ." and often before I even have a chance to answer them, "Y Verito, por que. . . " Too often than I would like to admit, the "Verito, por que" drives me a bit crazy, but I know I will miss it. 

I am afraid of how much he will miss us. He is an only child, and while he is unquestionably loved by his mom and grandmother, he gets less attention than their smart phones. Plus, being an only child is lonely; I know from experience. 

He also doesn't quite grasp the concept of time -- days of the week, months in the year, these are concepts that are not yet concrete. He knows our leave-taking is soon, and just this evening he asked several times to be sure we wouldn't leave tomorrow while he is in school. 

I have assured him repeatedly over the last several months that he will clearly know when we are leaving AND that we will be sure to give him a big "good bye" hug. But really, what does it mean to a six year old when you BFF is going away forever?

Three more days.