Frisbee Kid

The other day Odin (another intern) and I were throwing a frisbee at the little beach here in Talloires (we do it all the time). We were pretty much the only people there, besides a few adults down by the water and some people up at the bar/restaurant because it was getting late.

About 50 yards away, we spot this little kid standing there, dead still, watching us intently. He's sort of beyond a tree, so he thinks we can't see him. He's impeccably dressed - with fancy pants and a brown corduroy jacket - about 4 years old and about 3 feet tall.

We throw. He sneaks a few steps closer, then stops and watches. We throw. He sneaks closer. Finally, he's about 10 feet away (mind you, there's no one else around) and he stands perfectly still, quiet, straight-faced and observant. From close range, we toss him the disk. Shocked, it hits him in the chest, but he giggles, runs, and picks it up. He awkwardly flicks the disk back, even though it's about half the size of his entire body. We play!

He doesn't speak. When I ask him his name, he just stares. Oh, you don't have a name?! I joke, and he giggles. We continue our tossing triangle - Odin, to me, to him, it hits him and falls to the ground, he picks it up then he throws it on some crazy trajectory and we run and get it. But he gets better every time, and once and a while we celebrate because he catches it! Tres bien! After a half-hour or so, his mom comes over from the restaurant. She explains that his food is getting cold, and that he must really come eat and leave us alone. We explain that we were having fun, we'd love to throw with him another time, and we found out his real name. In turn he gave us each kisses on the cheek and then scurried after his mom. Why are French kids so adorable?!