1 October 2013
He still won’t tell us anything about school, but he wants to go. Our relief about this is so huge. Yesterday Teresa told him that one day next month he’d have to miss a bit of school to go to the dentist.
“I can’t miss main lesson!”
“When’s main lesson?”
“Right after circle!” (He says this like he can’t believe we don’t know it. As if he’s filled us in completely.)
“Okay, we’ll make it sometime after lunch.” I don’t remember what he said, but he looked concerned, tears starting in his eyes. “You can’t miss any school?” He nodded. “Okay, we can do it after school.”
“But I have to play with my friends.” They worked it out. He would have to miss playing with his friends (they stay after school to do this) but to make up for it, she will take him out for Japanese noodles afterward.
I’m not sure how his mind works. Because he’d be fine with being sick and staying home from school to watch TV and play. There’s something about missing out on part of a day that makes him uneasy. But even on days when he’s been sniffly enough to campaign to stay home, he hasn’t tried that hard for it. Of course I’m going to play it cool in front of him, but inside I’m squealing and jumping up and down: he likes it! he likes it!
Yesterday when they were playing after school, a girl from the other first grade told Enzo that he smells. “All men do,” he told her. Then he lifted his arm and gave her a whiff.
Last night I read Enzo a book with a tiny bit of Spanish in it. When we were finished I said, “Did you guys do Spanish in school today?”
“No. Singing. And Therapy.” (Therapy? Oh shit, maybe Waldorf is a cult.)
“I don’t know. I was expecting you’d know.”
“Is it like, movement and dance?”