Our neighbors have a little girl, 5 years old, named D. She is very friendly and plays with Ladybug whenever she comes to visit. She also loves to borrow Ladybug’s sidewalk chalk everyday and she is totally enamored of all my dogs. Her mother speaks only Spanish and her father limited English. D is in “kinder” (which I correctly guessed was kindergarten) and often translates between her mother and I. She also has taken me to task several times for my apparent mispronunciation of gracias. She does, at times, mix up her pronouns, which I find endearing. Each and every time I take one of the dogs out, she runs over to say hi to them. She also has a lot of questions and yesterday when I took our old (and lumpy) Lady Gwen out the following conversation just tickled me pink.
D: Can I pet her?
V: Yes, of course. (She and I pet the dog which causes Gwen to lie down and promptly fall asleep; as is the lot of old basset hounds)
D: Does her bite?
D: Why does she has bumps? Do they hurt she?
V: No, they don’t hurt. Sometimes when dogs get old they get lumps.
D: How big is her? (I interpret this as a request for her age)
V: She is fifteen years old.
D: My brother is 16.
V: Well dogs actually age different than people. So even though she has had 15 birthdays, she is really 105 years old.
At this point, I needed to get back inside to dinner so I looked down at Gwen and said, “Well Gwen you look tired, I guess I better take you in for a nap.” Which causes Daniela to ask, “Does her speak Spanish or English?”
I just giggled.