David Stone

The littlest boy in the Giraffe Class has the biggest name. The story goes that school administrators informed D.S.'s parents that there was already a David in the class, but they were adamant -- it had to be David. I'm not sure if the characters in his Chinese name translate to "stone" but one of them has an open and rounded sort of rectangle in it and that's how I distinguish his booklets and worksheets from the other David's. Also, his fine-motor skills are atrocious and he has a bad habit of rolling up his paperback books while I'm talking or while he's supposed to be improving his fine-motor skills by writing in them. Basically, the grossest book, written assignment, or piece of artwork always belongs to David Stone. Today he drew several dashes and a single circle inside a box. The assignment was to draw a cow and write, COW inside the box. "Teacher Sophie, I drew THREE cows," he interrupted, chuckling maliciously. He has a weepy eye and a perpetual tear dangling from the corner of it. Is it mean to say he has a gleam in his eye?

So, it's kind of amusing to hear about a four-year-old Taiwanese kid with the English name David Stone but even more hilarious are the names Donut, Frentzen, the brother and sister Seven and Eleven. A boy showed up to my co-worker’s class with the name Team. She named a kid Oscar the other day, which is only strange because it feels so significant to name a person. WeeWee's absence from school these past few weeks concerns my friend Teacher Max, of course, but as a result he has avoided saying aloud, with a straight face, - "Is WeeWee here?" To announce their attendance, and to practice speaking in full sentences, the KOJEN School asks students to stand and say, in WeeWee's case - "I am WeeWee. I am here. I am a girl." Whereas in the States we often call a penis a wee-wee, in Taiwan they sometimes call children WeeWee and a penis a "little bird." I know this because David Stone grabbed my hand after using the bathroom the other day and when I asked him if he washed his hands he replied, "No, but I didn't even touch my little bird."

David Stone wears bright yellow sneakers and T-shirts with little pieces of rice stuck to them. Sometimes he wears socks picturing Thomas (the engine that could...) but they fall down his skinny little legs and collect at his ankles. He often pulls them up to show people "Thomasss..." which he says a bit like a radio announcer, as though Thomas were super cool. He's less chatty about his Minnie Mouse sleeping bag.

Though he brags about toys and socks, David Stone is the least competitive kid in the class. While most kids fight for the front of the line, David Stone dances in the back of the classroom waiting for the middle to fill-up, occasionally hitting himself in the head with his own out-of-control arms. During “game time” he drops to the floor and spins around on his belly or sneaks away to the bathroom. His best friend, Doris, is in another classroom now and he misses her. In the bathroom they catch-up.

David Stone is frequently in the bathroom, not only to avoid games but also because he poops his body weight daily. In the classroom, if I ask for a volunteer and David Stone raises his hand he probably has no intention of offering an answer. He probably just wants to go poop. I don't understand why the people at KOJEN ask the children to say, "Teacher, I'm busy," to inform us that they have to go poop or to clarify that they are indeed pooping (just in case there's some confusion about why they're making squishy faces on the toilet). It is cute, though, to hear them say this.

It is less cute to hear them say (or scream, more likely) - "Teacher! I'm not busy any more!" I've found that sometimes I'm just too busy to watch a little boy poop, in which case I return to my charge and leave the door to the classroom open while I read a story to fourteen other children, keeping one ear open for that strange declaration. If I happen to miss it, a kid from another classroom is likely come rushing into mine, out of breath as if carrying extremely important news - "David Stone needs you to wipe his bum bum!" in which case, I put the book down and get to business in the bathroom with a moist wipe.

One class project involved a self-portrait and an answer to the question, "Why are you special?" David Stone wouldn't give his teacher an answer to the question but he did ask to go to the bathroom. This request inspired me to ask a question I knew would elicit an answer, "David Stone, how many times a day do you poop?" Response? - "Five times." And so, on the display wall beneath the most ridiculous self-portrait, in the least legible handwriting, David Stone writes "I am special because I poop five times a day."

Tomorrow David Stone will bring me a chocolate cookie. He says this most days.