I got the first “How Old is He?” for Ducky today. This has been a common theme for Pumpkin since he was 18 months old. Ducky is a little older than that. He’s 29 months. We were at Kaiser because my Post-Op appointment got moved up. He was romping around while I signed in, and he went to the optic center’s doorway where there was a sign that said “Vision Essentials” and it had a log of a big, fancy, metal V. “V, Mommy, see?” he said.
“How old is he?” wondered the check-in clerk.
“Two,” I replied.
“He already knows his letters?” She looked miffed.
Ducky ran over and really confounded her by adding, “The V says vuh.”
It was less than fifteen minutes until this question was repeated. The post-op check was for a gynecological procedure, and I hadn’t planned on this today. It got moved at the last minute so there was no where to put Ducky. I’d grabbed a box of foam shape puzzles that I purchased a while back for Ducky (after he begged for them) and took them with us. When the doctor (not my regular doctor) walked in, Ducky was spread out on the floor with these things, chattering out about how the yellow star went in the blue block. “How old is he?” asked the doctor. And when I answered, he added, “He’s very bright. Such a solid grasp of colors and shapes, and no trouble placing them. He might be gifted.” The doctor was so serious! Proposing this idea as if I didn’t know and as if I should be exceptionally pleased. But then he’s not my doctor and he has no idea about Pumpkin.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m proud. I’m proud of both of them. I’m also dreading what asychronous behaviors may be soon to appear for Ducky. But beyond all that, I think it might be hard to react properly to something like this when you’re naked from the waist down, covered by a very thin sheet and talking to a total stranger. I think God has a very dark sense of humor.