Thursday, December 1, 2011

Blog for Theo


Blog for Theo


            Harry Potter is Theo’s alter ego.  He, being almost six, has moved up from Super Heroes such as Batman, Superman, or Spiderman, and now whenever he has the chance to be someone other than himself, he chooses Harry Potter.  Just for effect, he has a real Harry Potter wand which he will rarely be without.  He also had Harry Potter glasses and a cloak, but cloaks get hot and the glasses were lost pretty much the first time he took them off.  This is no deterrent.
            He is very earnest in his appropriation of Harry.  He looks up at me from his height of about three foot four or five with soft brown eyes that are very expressive.  When he is tickled, his eyes crinkle up at the corners and almost close, but when he is explaining something to me that is an important truth, his eyes open wide and his eyebrows advance starkly upwards towards his hairline.  This gives him a charming look of perpetual wonder and confidence. He bobs his head in agreement with himself.
            “Yeah, that’s the truth, Wawa,” he contends.
            When he laughs, he throws his head back and opens his mouth in a big wide O so that I can see clear down his throat while he is cackling.  He has big loopy caramel colored curls that sit tightly around his head, and when he is tired he will twirl them.  He has done that since he was an infant.  He is the kind of kid who, when he first sees you, will run across the room to jump up into your arms in a joyful embrace and squeeze your neck.  He is completely irresistible.
            His mother finds him less so when he says things such as, “You’re a muggle.  I’m sorry but that’s what you are.  I am magic and I really live at Hogwarts.  Every night I fly away from here to my real home at Hogwarts.  You have no power over me because you’re a muggle and I am magic.”
            Mothers do not find such talk irresistible. 
            However, Theo has always been one to lay things on the line irrespective of your feelings.  I mean, truth is truth.  Once  a couple of years ago he and his sister Ruby were spending the night with me.  His brother Gus was off with a friend.
            Ruby and I were sitting on the couch reading a book.  Theo was watching Justice League, the remains of his picnic dinner from Wendy’s on the coffee table.  He came over to see what we were doing, and while looking at the book, too, began digging deeply into his nose with his right forefinger.
            I said, “Theo, do you need to get a Kleenex?”
            “Nahhhh,” he replied.  “Here! I got it!” he said proudly and put his finger up to show me his prize.
            “Ugh, Theo,” I said.  “Put it on your napkin and for Pete’s sake, don’t eat it.”
            Walking dutifully toward his napkin on the coffee table, Theo nodded his head agreeably and added, “Sometimes I eat them.  I think it tastes good.”  His head was bobbing up and down, his eyebrows raised up around his hairline.  He was giving me good instruction.
            “You know what it tastes like, Wawa?” he asked politely.
            “I can’t imagine,” I replied.
            “Pizza!” he said, and sat down to watch the rest of his movie.
            Muggles, boogers, wands.  Truth all wrapped up in crinkly smiles and loopy curls.  For a grandmother, irresistible.
           

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