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Hanging out with Cave Dwelling Eyes, and her husband Wring The Bell. Their son runs into the apartment, throws his coat on the floor and starts chattering at me, a mile a minute.
"Hello, Amul. I got some very complicated homework and look, they gave me a map, but the map doesn't have anything to do with my homework."
"Hey, don't put that on the floor! You know better," CDE interjects.
"Look, it's a map. This is where we live - Hic-a....Chica...Chicago. That's what it says on the map."
Yes, that's very cool. Hey, where's your mom from?
He peers at the map, and eventually finds it, and then I ask him about his dad's country of origin, and then I ask him about his complicated homework. He slides underneath the kitchen table, and tears open his backpack.
"See! Look! See, it's very hard. It's this whole process we have to do..." He opens up a folder and pulls out a paper with numbers all over it. Ah, addition. That IS very complicated.
CDE is pretty impressed, too. "At six? They're really pushing you guys."
The cute little mulatto boy pulls out a few more papers and shows me the instructions on how to use beans to do the math problems, and another paper slips out of his folder onto the mess he is making on the floor. It says "Valentine's Day Party Plans: Parents, please read" on front.
What's that? "Oh, it's a list of all the boys in my class! See, I am in room 111." He's pointing to the right-hand column, as if the left-hand list of names does not even exist. I turn to peer at CDE's face. At six? Boy, they really are pushing these kids.
Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is a little open. You can see it's hit her in the mother-heart, that place she so loathes to admit exists. "Yeah," she splutters. "Really young."
"Hello, Amul. I got some very complicated homework and look, they gave me a map, but the map doesn't have anything to do with my homework."
"Hey, don't put that on the floor! You know better," CDE interjects.
"Look, it's a map. This is where we live - Hic-a....Chica...Chicago. That's what it says on the map."
Yes, that's very cool. Hey, where's your mom from?
He peers at the map, and eventually finds it, and then I ask him about his dad's country of origin, and then I ask him about his complicated homework. He slides underneath the kitchen table, and tears open his backpack.
"See! Look! See, it's very hard. It's this whole process we have to do..." He opens up a folder and pulls out a paper with numbers all over it. Ah, addition. That IS very complicated.
CDE is pretty impressed, too. "At six? They're really pushing you guys."
The cute little mulatto boy pulls out a few more papers and shows me the instructions on how to use beans to do the math problems, and another paper slips out of his folder onto the mess he is making on the floor. It says "Valentine's Day Party Plans: Parents, please read" on front.
What's that? "Oh, it's a list of all the boys in my class! See, I am in room 111." He's pointing to the right-hand column, as if the left-hand list of names does not even exist. I turn to peer at CDE's face. At six? Boy, they really are pushing these kids.
Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is a little open. You can see it's hit her in the mother-heart, that place she so loathes to admit exists. "Yeah," she splutters. "Really young."