After a bit of a wait for his bags at the airport, we were allowed to take him home and properly torture him.
You know that scene in ET where the kids have ET in Eliot’s room and they really don’t know what to do with him? They end up giving him a bunch of food and kind of watching him, trying to communicate (you can watch it here sorry about all the commercials).
Well, I have a real attachment to that scene after what we did last night. We had such a hard time communicating–I don’t think poor Ivan understands much of what I say–but we knew he was hungry and tired, so we set him up at the bar and emptied our cupboards and our refrigerator and just let him eat.
First job done: keeping Ivan from starving. Second job: explaining how he needs to pack a lunch for the following day. That took about 30 minutes. I don’t think he understood why he needed to put little bits of food in ziploc bags or why in the world Ethan would offer him a peanut butter sandwich.
I sincerely hope he survives us. We are the aliens to him.