San Diego to Disneyland...

To say the least, my little Diego has a few "issues." He was diagnosed a couple years ago with Pervasive Development Disorder, which means he MIGHT be autistic but whoever diagnosed him doesn't want to commit. So the umbrella term was used.

Diego is very bright and very funny and has absolutely no impulse control. He just says what he thinks as loudly as possible in a very high pitched voiced designed to grate away on the very last nerve I possess.

Yesterday he was annoyed, as usual, when the music came on and he had to clean up and get ready for our day. He was not mad enough to go scream in the bathroom about it, but he did announce, in no uncertain terms, that he "quit."

When I didn't respond, he added that not only did he "quit," but he "hates school" and "doesn't care."

As soon as I explained our group time activities, he rescinded his resignation from Kindergarten and reevaluated his "I hate school" proclamation. Such is the way of San Diego - who keeps me humble and on my teacherly toes all day long.

Today, Diego came in and very seriously announced to me that he had to talk to me. I said okay, and leaned down to hear him better. "You take me to Disseyland?" he asked, quite earnestly, as if this thought had been brewing around for quite awhile.

To say Diego loves Disneyland is an understatement, like Kobe Bryant "throws a few hoops now and again." Disneyland is the BE ALL END ALL for Diego and he talks about it often. It is his favorite writing topic, especially the "luca luca car," which is a mystery to most of us but we presume it is a ride at Diego's favorite place on Earth.

"Well, Diego... I think that is a family trip," I replied very seriously. "You have to talk to your Papi about that."

He raised his voice and looked surprised. "You can drive Papi's car! You can! You can take me to Dissyland!"

"I'm sorry, Diego - I can't. You should talk to your Papi about this. I am sure he will take you again."

"No, no!" Diego protested. "You can drive Papi's car! You talk to him! You can DO IT! You can DO IT!"

When he excitedly reassures me that, yes, I "can do it!" he sounds eerily like a Lamaze coach.

Knowing I had to get him off this topic and soon, I tried to reassure Diego that I would talk to his father about Disneyland and warn the man that Diego is being a bit liberal with the car keys.

Throughout the morning, Diego returned to the subject of Disneyland and his insistence that I not only take HIM, but the entire class.

"Who wants to go to Disseyland? Who wants to go on the luca luca car," he shouted with the zest and zeal of a Texas cheerleader.

"I do! I do!" the class would respond each and every time he offered. As if he had the power to offer such a thing. But such is the mind of a Kindergarten child.

During rug time, Diego resumed the Disneyland discussion, to show me that the whole class really wants to go so the LEAST I could do is take them - in Papi's car.

"Diego," I said steadily, "it is story time. I need to read this story. You need to be quiet now. And sit down."

"But I want to go to Disseyland!"

"Yes, Diego, I know you do. But we have to go to school today. Not Disneyland. Please sit down and listen."

He looks deflated and huffs out a long sorry breath. Then he sits down. Then he bings back up and throws both his arms up in the air and shouts, "Who wants to ride the luca luca car?"

This time most of the class is quiet, except Raymond who seems to think Diego can get them all OFF the rug, into Papi's car, and POOF! Instantly to Disneyland. It doesn't matter how many times I've reiterated that we are NOT going - Raymond looks ready to go pack up.

"Diego. Honey. We are not going to Disneyland. Sit down now. Sit down and listen. Listen to me. I am going to read."

Again, he deflates and sits down. His disappointment is palpable and he starts rubbing his fingers on the carpet, humming under his breath.

I hold up the book and begin to read.

From Diego's corner of the rug comes a softer version of his voice: "The luca luca car?"

I put the book down. I take a deep breath. I say the Hail Mary even though I am not Catholic.

"Diego. Let. me. read."

"Okay."

He puts his head down between his knees. The injustices of the world are falling all around him. This is not what he signed up for. Maybe he is thinking he should "quit" again. But he is quiet and I hold up the book again.

I start to read. I make it past the very first word.

Diego's head shoots up from between his knees and he doesn't miss a beat.

"Once upon a time," Diego says loudly...."WE WENT TO DISNEYLAND!!"