I am in love with a 6 year old Spanish boy named Roberto. I only get two hours with him a week and it’s over crayons. But I am satisfied. Previously I had considered two hours with any child an interminable length, but I have found tutoring Roberto quite delightful and see my mothering potential. Roberto is very smart and doesn’t particularly need my help; he knows his letters and puts his little finger down as a marker between words (so they don’t end up too close). He acts a little tough for the first five minutes of every session but eventually cracks a smile, revealing a mouth littered with silver fillings. The fillings only serve to increase my devotion!
Recently, I discovered that Dr. Seuss makes him laugh. He’ll be all serious and then a picture of a Zingypigdoodle (maybe not a Zingypigdoodle specifically, but some invented creature along those lines) will make him crazy. He always puts his hand over his mouth in an attempt to conceal the laughter (or maybe the fillings). I’m usually giggling by the end too – the juxtaposition of this very studious, serious boy and these random peels of laughter – it’s…refreshing.
The other day he turns to me: “Rebecca?” Pause. “Do you like my bunny bag?” I do a quick scan of the living room, landing on his kindergarten Easter craft: a brown paper bag with ears. “Yeah! I love your bunny bag!” He nods, satisfied; his efforts have not gone unnoticed. That’s what it is to be six. Maybe not so far from 27 or 55. It’s bunny bags for all of us at some level.
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You are a born teacher – admit it!
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