f r e s h s t a r t

Monday, June 20, 2005

 

The baby only speaks Spanish
I live in an older building on a quiet street in Edgewater. There are a lot of families with children in the building, and there are always kids playing soccer on the sidewalk, basketball in the alley, or running around with water guns on the back porches. A nice couple and their young daughter live next door to me. We exchange pleasantries, but don’t really chat much. The little girl is probably 2 years old, and she is interested in, yet afraid of my dog. When she sees him she shouts “bow bow bow perro”, or runs away in tears. The first time she was upset after encountering Henry, her dad tried to calm her down, speaking soothing words in Spanish. He turned to me and said, “She’s afraid of your dog. The baby only speaks Spanish. Perro is dog.” I smiled, and said that I knew a little Spanish from school. From then on I tried to keep Henry out of her path.

Yesterday while I was doing some dishes, she and I and another little boy were playing peekaboo through my open kitchen window. I got the dog to play along by putting his paws on the windowsill. The girl climbed up on one of the chairs that I keep on the porch so she could get closer and say “bow bow bow, perrito”. Henry didn’t know what to make of this, and sat there patiently, looking perplexed. Her mother came over to check on her, spoke a little to me, and to her daughter. “Si, amor, un perrito. Say bye-bye. Vamanos.”

I think she's warming up to him.

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