Colette met a little boy at the library this morning. He was 3. They went to the park after library time and he wanted to play tag – newfangled business to her. She listened to his description of the game with her head cocked and said “yeah” and nodded her head at all the right moments – looking straight into his eyes with her big brown round ovals. When he proclaimed the start of the game, she did it all wrong, but included lots of charming faces and cackles so the boy didn’t care, both running in every direction, abandoning the rules. As Claire says, Colette runs with her knees bent and a little squat when she is happy; there was a lot of that.
She is such a character these days. She finds lipstick tubes and when I catch her on the brink of anointing a wall or her own face and look at her with punitive eyes, she looks up at me with adoring eyes and explains “I like it,” and nods trying to convince me of the acceptability of what she is doing. Already a real negotiator and people connector.
She goes back and forth between French and English, ready to talk about “bricolage” and “hammereau” (hammer + marteau – hammer in French) with papa, chaussures and socks, lobey dubey babies (lovey dovey babies), tick tock clocks, taxis, camions, avacados (aa-cados!), l'autre, voila and ta-la (tada)!
3 comments:
And don't forget gobble gobble. Also, Meredith and I agreed that Colette learning to say our names (or her own versions of them) was a real Thanksgiving highlight.
Colette - you just keep running from those little boys until you are 25!
Mother's punitive eyes...right.
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