|Chuy, who is four years old|
You know that old saying that ladies glow, men perspire, and horses sweat? I think I have some equine DNA in my ancestry because hooboy, when I am warm every drop of moisture in my body suddenly departs through my facial pores. I practically projectile sweat, which is a nice natural safeguard for my personal space but does not win me any points in the charm department.
I was outside playing my role as the Reina de Burbujas when the kids discovered both of my super-powers. A drop of sweat ran down my nose and because my hands were occupied with cheating preschoolers and the soapy bubble wand, I absent-mindedly flicked the sweat drop off with my tongue.
This super-power, that of being able to touch the tongue to the nose, is one that a person either has or does not have. My father has it, I have it, none of my siblings or children have it. And apparently none of the children at CHI have it, if I'm to judge by the sudden silence that gripped those who had seen me. Four-year-old Chuy, who was waiting his turn in his Spongebob t-shirt, looked at me as if I'd just pulled a flaming baton out of my ear and for the rest of the evening I saw the moppets who surrounded me streeeeeetching their tongues upward.
Fast-forward to the next day. Boy#2 and I were in the un-air-conditioned dining hall waiting for lunch when Chuy climbed up on the chair next to me. I was absent-mindedly wiping super-power off my face with my bandana when I glanced at the moppet in the next chair.This is what I saw:
That kid is adorable.