Every Friday evening a 2 year old boy comes with his mother for a 30 minute English class.
Every Friday evening I blow up a balloon and put it somewhere in the room.
Every Friday evening when he comes in to the room we look for the balloon.
When he finds it I ask him what color it is and then we have the big conversation:
“Here you are.”
“Thank you.” … as we pass it back and forth.
After that we move on to more extreme stuff like:
– looking for animals in the jungle
– making imaginary cakes with imaginary ingredients
– examining the contents of magical bags holding treasures like plastic fruit, 2 piece animal puzzles, or things that need to be classified as a certain color
In between these important activities we sings songs:
– about his health (How are you?)
– environmental issues (How’s the weather?)
– public transportation (The Wheels on the Bus),
– monkeys jumping on beds, spiders climbing drainpipes, ducks hiking, …
It’s a quick 30 minutes and I actually look forward to it for some weird reason.
I know his name, but I don’t think he knows mine.
I’m just the balloon man.
note: another little kid calls me “Wednesday” because that’s when he has a class.
double note: little kids really need to have a life.
triple note: most kids like me because I’m bigger and very different looking than their parents … like a dinosaur … or something. I can live with that.
quadruple note: most kids like me are probably the same age as me … or older or younger. I know where you live.
quintuple note: finding two meanings in everything is really annoying sometimes.
notes to myself #128
You end up where you belong … you don’t really fit in, but you still belong somehow.