Toby

Toby, the boy in the box.

So many words to describe him, the most accurate that come to mind being delightful and maddening, lovable and exasperating, all at the same time. When I arrived he was curious but ambivalent about me, mostly copying his brother and telling me about their toys, and singing their favorite chanson, "One little caca, floating in the water.....Two little cacas, floating in the water... " (you get the idea, they're going through a poop phase). But after the novelty of my presence in his house both wore off and sank in, that I actually was, in fact, staying, he was progressively more ornery and resistant to me and anything I asked him to say or do. Unbeknowst to me before my arrival, Toby had been cared for by Flora, the family's housekeeper, ever since the day he was born. Kids are incredibly perceptive, and Toby picked up on the "transition" from Flora to me as their primary caretaker, and became ever more difficult. For the entire time that I've been here, Toby has been obsessed with "collecting newspapers for Flora" everytime we go on the tram. At first this completely puzzled me, until one day I saw Flora looking at the newspaper classifieds saying, "Oh lala, I need to find work, it is so hard in Geneva to find work." Obviously, Toby got the message, and wanted/s to do everything he can to aid his beloved Flora. Unfortunatly, that has has put me in the unfavorable position of evil usurper in his wide eyes...needless to say not the greatest way to start off in a new family.

Little by little, things have gotten easier. But it has been a slow process, and I know he still hasn't fully warmed up to me. My asking him to put his pyjamas on, or telling him that he can't have "toast bread" (as Flora and therefore the kids call it) for breakfast will usually no longer result in a full-fledged screaming tantrum, but with Toby you can never be sure. He can be mean and vicious to, and his "best of" reel includes: "I will cut off all your hair and put you in the sea," "I will take you back to the aeroport," "Je vais te tuer" (I'm going to kill you) and the most recent "I will send you to go back where you came from, I'll send you back to Michigan!!" When he starts with his threats, I am struggling between laughing and feeling like a faux-pair. But at least I don't get his worst threat, which he reserves for Michelle: "I'm going to throw you in the sea and the piranhas will eat you all up!"

And then are the (more rare) times when he is an adorable little koala bear, shimmying up the "trunk" to give big bear hugs and bisous. So lovable and happy, his body limp like a little rag doll flopping in your lap, I feel loved and lucky that I get to be part of such an amazing little kids life. So much energy, so much creativity, so genuine and innately happy. It's contagious, and being around Toby when he's noe un petit monstre is an uplifting elixir to the soul.

Watching him on my floor play with a box for the entire duration of this post, happily chatting and curiously asking questions (always to be followed with a "why," and then anothe), fill me with fondness, warmth and memories of my own childhood, and remind me of how much I was (and still am) loved and missed.

I don't think I'll ever find amusement out of scooting around in a box again, but watching Toby play, and delightfully proclaim "Look Meggie I have a new bottom!!" makes me happy to think that once upon a time I was small and full of wonderment, squealing with joy in a new found square derrière.