high hopes for this one

The boy is relieved that his tutor will be a woman. Because they're, you know, not as "fierce-stern" as men. He is not shy but also very smart, and that makes me happy because it will be easier. His mother is obviously rich but also very sweet, and that makes me happy because, while I have and will work for real jerks, I prefer nice people. 

The father is not present, and I guess he will likely remain a mystery. When we're exchanging info the boy whispers to his mother, "Don't give him my dad's number," and later when we leave the teahouse together he tells me - in Mandarin - how his father takes him to school and picks him up everyday in the car . . . and how he envies the classmates he sees walking home by themselves. 

He promises to teach me to skateboard. Then he tells me that he thinks I speak the best Mandarin of any foreigner. I think he probably means "in the world." He's twelve. (His frame of reference includes one foreigner who taught in the English training school last summer). But still, who says I don't like kids?