Pickers

Waldo is a little slow. He always has this half-smile half-confused grinnish look on his face. When I tell him to sit, he does, but he's facing the opposite direction. When I tell him to color, he puts his color pencil down and rips the paper. He's not mis-behaved, just missing something. I'm sure he will grow out of it soon, but until then, he delivers moments like these.

...

Waldo looked bewildered at his paper. The worksheet had a butterfly with no wings and the kids were supposed to connect the dots. You know, draw a line from the numbers 1 to 2 to 3 to 4, etc. Most of the kids, 3-year-olds, grabbed the concept fairly quickly. They drew in the wings and colored thereafter. But Waldo simply looked down. He was stumped.

I knelt down next to him to provide a little assistance. I pointed to 1, he nodded. I then said, "OK Waldo, where is two? Two Waldo? Two? Point at two?"

Waldo promptly lifted his right index finger to the sky and readied himself for the decision. The moment looked momentous for him. He paused like a dignitary during a speech, waiting for the crowd to calm it's applause before landing the final big point. And as he made a move with the finger, it happened.

He injected it into his nose, pulled a boogie out and showed me his prize. I told him kindly, "Close enough Waldo," and finished the butterfly for him.

...get Lost my friends.