Gentle George Wilder Is Eleven

George Wilder. Eleven already. He is a five speed sports car. He can hang in neutral and just purr, huddled wherever he finds a spot and get lost in a book. He doesn’t hear a word around him. He sucks down every word quickly and quietly before he is off in fifth gear figuring out how to ride a unicycle, juggle, work a puzzle, or try something new. Or, if you need him steady on a job, he sticks to third and putters through. When it is hard, he puts it in second, until he has it right then, he throws it straight into high gear and is off! Yet, when he needs to put on nice clothes, speak clearly, and walk with anyone between the ages of 1-100, he finds fourth and hums along making whoever, whenever feel special. 

After a unicycle appeared at our house on Christmas Day, he spent hours perfecting his ability to zip up and down the driveway. He was covered in bruises from his endeavors but this didn’t slow him down. 

He also decided that he wanted to learn how to play Carol Of The Bells. He used youtube instructions and taught himself how to play it perfectly and as fast as you can.. 

He started playing soccer in the fall. We’ve played plenty in the yard, but that is all. He is intense on the field. He is swift, he is fluid. He is focused on winning and scoring and defending. He learned to communicate clearly with his teammates and put the ball where he wanted it to go. 

He picks up a pencil and the lead can’t keep up with his words. Delightful phrases and rhymes and lines appear. His words are smooth and sleek.

And to keep himself occupied while we drive, he has learned to identify any car that we pass. He knows the rarest and the most common. He knows all of the car logos and can identify them like a hawk on a line spotting little creatures below. I’m pretty sure he has a keen desire to one day drive a Tesla or Porche. Something sleek and fast and fluid.. 

He can eat so much food. We are not sure where it goes. He loves good food and will wait for it. He won’t spoil his appetite with fillers like pretzels or chips. But, when you put food in front of him, it is gone and he loves it. 

This is our George Wilder


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