It's Sunday evening, and we're all hanging out in the kitchen. Max is sitting on the floor pushing a toy bus back and forth that keeps playing "The Wheels On The Bus." Note to self: hide bus. Dave and Sabrina are at the table, reading flash cards with Spanish words.
"Avion," Dave says. "Airplane."
Sabrina repeats after him, "Avion."
"And what does a 'plato' say?" he asks.
"Quack! Quack! Quack!" she replies.
It is exciting to hear. I start thinking that I wish Max could join in, too. But he needs to focus all his energy on picking up English words, so we don't dare mix in another language.
"What color is this?" Dave asks.
"Azul!" says Sabrina.
Sabrina's ability to talk still astounds us both. It is miraculous to us that she picked it up on her own, without any therapy or coaxing or prayers. Even when she says things like "You are a bad lady!" or "You are a bad man!" to us when we tell her she has to go to sleep.
Now they are counting together: "Uno, dos, tres, quattro...."
Max continues to play with his bus, oblivious and happy.
"Dave, show him the duck card," I say.
Max looks and says "Quack! Quack!"
"Dave, show him the airplane card!"
"Air-plane!" Max says.
"Dave, show him the truck card!"
"Wruck!" says Max.
Dave shows him the cow card; he says "cow!" and then "moooooo."
"Max, are you ready to go to sleep?"
"Nooooooooooo," he says.
Senor Max may not habla espanol, but his English is coming along. And that is miraculous to us, too.
