Today while Sebastien and Daddy were playing at the park, Sebastien accidentally dropped one of his spoons (which he says as "poon") down the sewer grate. It seemed to be the saddest moment of his life. He got on his hands and knees, put his face right up to the grate to peer down and see his spoon, and kept saying "poon gone" and looking up at Pablo. He'd reach his arm as far as he could down the grate to reach it, and with an almost bewildered, searching voice kept muttering to himself "poon gone, poon gone."

This has to be the 5th spoon, not to mention a shovel and a measuring cup, that he has lost down that grate, but for some reason this particular spoon had special significance for him.

Pablo sat him down on his knee to talk with him about losing his spoon, and for awhile he was okay after that. But then 10 minutes later he was back at the grate on his hands and knees, looking down, calling for his spoon - "poon gone, poon gone."

When they got home, the first thing Sebastien said to me was "poon gone," and then Pablo told me the story. All evening he'd just be playing, and out of nowhere he'd look at one of us, shrug his shoulders, and sadly say "poon gone."

The only other time we've seen him that sad was when he finished his cake for dessert and realized the cake was all gone. He put his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands, and seemed to ruminate over his realization for some time. In between whatever thoughts he'd be having, he'd hold his bowl up and say, with great hope in his voice, "More?" And when I'd tell him there was no more, back into his hands went his head, and he'd sit there sadly thinking about his situation.

Also, when he can't sleep now, he sits in the rocking chair in his room, sometimes for quite some time, and just thinks. No toys. No blanket. No noise. He just sits there, in the dark, thinking.