Pete and Bonnie’s youngest, James, is blessed with extraordinary social skills. Even at his tiny age (5 1/2), he has some of the most refined interpersonals of anyone I’ve ever met.
This has got to be genetic, and it’s likely from Bonnie’s family – she says James’ personality is the same as her brother’s, a genuinely nice guy whose sincere affability puts you instantly at ease.
Yesterday, though, James was MAD, and his father wrote that his ill humor lasted until suppertime.
P&B had an early appointment, so they asked me to stay with James until it was time for him to get on the school bus.
I hadn’t realized it, but for James, the ride on the bus is an important ritual, and he’s very possessive about “his” proper seat, some 2-3 rows from the front, on the right hand side.
We had about 20 minutes before the pick-up, so he asked if we could play outside. We got to the bus stop in plenty of time, but at the last moment, James realized that we’d forgotten his back pack.
The bus driver makes a big loop through the neighborhood, and she offered to pick him up on the way back. Still, he was furious – he figured he was going to lose “his” seat, and sure enough, there was another child in his spot when he finally got on the bus.
James usually smiles and waves goodbye, but this time, all he offered was an icy, imperious stare, strangely incongruous on his normally angelic face. Rather than amusing, it was chilling, like the thumbs-down look losing gladiators got at the Coliseum.
My grandson is a very cool little kid, but all I can say is, cross him at your peril, especially if he’s ever your boss.