Not Lost in Translation

Taking my son to see the ocean for what will feel like to him, the first time, is a great joy.  I remember Faith at the age of 31/2, looking out at the Gulf of Mexico for the first time and putting her arms out wide.  She said one word.  "MINE." She meant it.

I get her sense of things, it is mine.  Except I won't be able to know except by best guess, what Paul thinks.  We brought along his communicator, but it doesn't always have the words.

I haven't edited it to say, "Are we there yet?"

Last night, when we were driving, he got pretty desperate.  We'd been in the car for over 8 hours.  "Here?"  he asked.
Not yet.
"Here?"
No.
"Here?"
He asked each time he saw a light.

When we got to the house and he climbed the stairs, he turned, looked around, jumped up and down three times and pumped his fist.  

Translation: I think he likes being here.