My special little guy

I am feeling the need to devote an entry just to Thayer.  He definitely gets less air time than Meredith, and he is in some ways having a more difficult time of it here in Paris than she, but there are some precious aspects to my Mr. T. that I want to share.

He is completely taken by all of the various vehicles around us that seem, well, like toys.  At home, we play the "tap buggy" game, where you yell out, for example, "Tap Buggy Green! No tap backs!" and you tap the person nearest you.  Some of you might know this as Punch Buggy.  Fortunately, the less violent version was introduced to Meredith a few years back.  So we have that.

We also have special actions and motions for Smart Cars (I get to smack myself in the forehead, like I coulda had a V8), for Mini Coopers (Meredith does a curtsy), as well as for motorcycles with overheads (Thayer says, "cover-up" and makes a cover with his hands around his head), and for the three-wheel bikes (say "trois roues!"  and imitate having your hands on the bike's handles).  There are also comments for tour buses, both the closed kind (a "car" in French, like a tour bus) and the Open Tour (a double-decker bus), but I can't keep those straight.

Then there are his sidewalk rituals.  He loves the interruptions on the sidewalks here, the various manhole covers in different shapes and sizes.  He will stop to play hopscotch on the long rectangular strips, and spins around on the circular ones.  This makes him a rather unpredictable pedestrian.  He knows that this behavior is not tolerated by the centre staff, but with the Guide or myself, if we're not pressed for time, it's perfectly fine.

On the metro, there are other preferences.  If at all possible, Thayer wants to be at the end of the train.  The very front is better, but the back is all right, because he wants to look at the tracks as much as possible. He is entranced by the metro tracks.

There are a few things about the centre that are pretty great, actually.  First of all, he has learned to raise his hand like a French kid.  Over here, you don't just stick your hand up as high as you can, shooting it up over your head, elbow by your ear.  Instead, you hold up your index finger and bend your elbow, so that the tip of your finger is about as high as the top of your head.  Very cute, this.

And on a personal note, Thayer and I have developed a ritual that I have come to love.  Each morning after checking in at the centre desk, we hang up his backpack and find a seat at one of the tables dedicated to drawing.  I write his name in bubble letters and let him fill it in, then he writes me a note or draws a picture for me to take with me.  For example, on Friday he wrote "Maman" with hearts around it.  Then I fold up the paper with his name on it and put it in his pocket, and I take his message with me.  I have quite a collection now, no two alike!

And while I sometimes find his behavior exhausting or exasperating, he gets great reactions from the Parisian strangers around us.  Whether we're asking to use a café rest room, or making our way to the back of the train, or singing a little tune while we wait in line at the supermarché, Thayer manages to make the people around him smile.  Which, for Paris, is especially nice.  He still hardly ever looks in the camera, though!