Leo is twelve. Tall, with more than a hint of a moustache, seeking responsibility, ways to earn money, being helpful. He sees himself more than a wee bit as the man of the house. And yet, he's still very much a boy. True adolescence is not yet here. We argue, but we get past it. He doesn't sulk more than ten-fifteen minutes at most. Though I contemplate the true possibility of serious sulks, perhaps already next year?
But, on a more gentle note, he is a friend to girls. Girls his age, particularly here in the US, find him just lovely, gentle, handsome, with that little je ne sais pas quoi in his definite Frenchness.
It is precious to watch what may be the last year that he will be relatively blind to his attraction to young girls his age. A full year will pass before we're back in the woods of Northern Michigan, and who will he be then? How will he see his childhood friend who will also be a year further into her young woman beauty?
Ah. We'll hold our breath. It is a beautiful scene right now. No need to rush anything. Simply watch, observe, and love these young people who are on the cusp between childhood and adolescence. I won't patronize their childhood by saying that it is simple, or ignorant, or blind, or any such thing. It is simply a different state of mind. Innocence of certain things, curiousity toward others. And what will next year bring?
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