Homesick

Last night Uta had his first bout of homesickess since we arrived. We have been here two weeks already. He cried. Mostly it was a longing for his toys and an uncertainty that our apartment in New York is in fact still there. I reassured him that it was. I dug my house keys out from the bottom of my suitcase and he embraced them like a long lost friend. I told him if he wished we could return to New York in the morning, but he quickly refused my offer. He doesn't want to go home, he said, he just misses home. Fair enough. He fell asleep with the house keys in his hand.

After school the next day we went to the bakery... Uta could choose whatever he liked. He picked a donut, french toast and a mango shake. (It never hurts to sweeten the experience now and then!) Just as we were leaving the sky turned dark and it started to thunder and pour. We had to wait out the storm at the bookstore nearby. We looked through assorted picture books about ghosts and warring insects. Then the sun broke through and we picked one book to buy before returning home, a book called 'Ghost Train'. There are hardly any words, except the sound of the train and the announcing of station stops along the train's journey. Each page is crammed full of harrowing figures, and gruesome details. Uta can't get enough of it.

There are some grandparents out there that are prone to worry, you know who you are. So for you I will conclude by saying that the homesickness was fleeting. By morning there was no trace of it at all.