Henry, age 5, is a kinetic wonder. He came with only two operational modes: fast and off. He runs until he sleeps.
His soccer coaches commented with some wonder, that no matter how they tried, Henry was the one kid they could never wear out. Other kids ask for breaks but he only asks to get back in the game. While in the game, he is a whirlwind of simultaneous offense and defense. Katie reported he scored 4 goals in this morning's game. And to her joy, he threw a magnificent fit when the game was over and he couldn't keep playing. My absence, of course, makes such tantrums all the brighter. Katie really loves it when I travel.
Accounts from school portray a bright and eager learner. His competitive nature makes for a bit of a whiz at math because his desire to calculate the score differential and how long it would take to catch up is like a World War Z zombie trying to pass on its disease. Speaking of, that movie didn't make any sense. So, your dead, and all your bones are broken from stepping in front of a car, or jumping off a 100-foot wall to chase the living, yet you run faster than when you were alive. I can only suspend my disbelief so far. Am I off topic?
Henry has essentially two requests, which feel like they are coming from a Gatling gun: Someone must play some sport with him, and he needs candy.
He's charming when not tired, a terrorist when exhausted.
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