This morning, Tertius appears in the doorway to my office with a white sun visor pulled down under his chin and holding the blue plastic nib of giant-sized crayon on his head. He's a gnome.
A couple of days ago, he came in swathed entirely in black from head to foot, a niqab made from various ninja outfits and Batman capes. His eyes were hidden behind opaque sunglasses and, oddly, the ensemble was topped off with a light-hued fedora. He looked like Indiana Jones performed by Mummenschanz. This time he claimed to be his brother.
He honored me yesterday with two new stickers on the outside of his bedroom door. One is of Great Britain, because that's where I come from, and the other is of France, with a big red 'x' drawn over it, because apparently I'm always being rude about the French. (It may be genetic, but I have got to watch what I say in front of these kids.)