María

The first time I saw María I was waiting for my drink at the end of the bar in Starbucks. Suddenly her little head ran across the store at table height as she accosted Roberto, who was making my tall mocha (two pumps, no whip cream), and demanded, "Give me a chocolate!"

Roberto was caught off-guard by her boldness. He hesitated.

"Um, go ask your parents."

And off she went, running back to the register where her father was ordering a frappaccino.

A few weeks later I sat by myself in a nook of four comfy armchairs and her parents approached and asked, "do you mind if we sit here?"

I recognized the tiny-tot immediately.

They sat and the madness began. All the energy of an atomic bomb, the cuteness of a toddler, the sass of a teenager, and an ability of speech far beyond my own wrapped up in a tiny little three year old adult with marker all over her face. Her parents are both actors, and it doesn't take long to realize that María has inheirited the drama-gene, particularly of the comedic variety.

Tonight I saw her family sitting by the door and waved from across the café. Not five minutes later while I sat on my comfy sofa chair María, accompanied by her mom, dad, two of their friends and her baby brother joined me and a poor, slightly overwhelmed stranger in my nook, bringing with them all the noise and energy they could offer. Apparently María wanted to say hi to me, and since they were sitting by the door in a cold draft and saw that I was by myself in a warm corner, they decided to relocate all together so that I would have some company and they could have some warmth. :)

Tonight María had a butterfly, heart, and a flower drawn on her face. She wore a brightly striped dress over a purple long-sleeved shirt and kelly-green aladdin pants. She looked just like a little hippy, without a care in the world.

At one point her mother told her that I'm studying their language. I said, "that's right, so I'm still learning how to speak like you" and she told me that her brother only knows how to say, "AAAAHHH." Well, I suppose that makes sense, seeing as how he's not yet a year old.

Then she pulled up her sleeve, bent her arm and stuck her elbow out, pointed at it and said, "look at this!"

Thinking there must be a boo-boo or a freckle of some sort, I asked, "what is it?"

She responded with, "my elbow, of course!" and looked at me as if I were the most dense person she had ever met. How could I not know what an elbow was?

We all had a good laugh and then I said, "Yes, but what's on it?" (Keep in mind that the word of "on" is the same as the word for "in").

"Bone," with a sweet smile.

Of course. Common sense.

She then extended her arm so that her elbow disappeared and declared, "and now it's gone! It's magic!"

She then took an umbrella, dropped it behind her and held up her empty hands while saying, "ta da!"

We asked, "where did it go?"

"It flew away."

Simple as that. The umbrella flew away.

Can we all go back to being three again? How much fun would that be? We can jump in puddles, make our lap disappear, and drink caramel cream frappaccinos without worrying about how many calories we're consuming.

Life is so beautiful when you're three. :)