He latches onto my right leg and hugs it loosely. I pat him on the back and he responds with three tight squeezes, a silent message sharing his anxiety and taking some comfort. “Oh, no. In a moment you’ll look up and realize your mistake. This won’t be good.” He doesn’t hear me. Then his dad wanders into view. He is startled, but crosses over to his own parent’s leg, letting out just a small yelp on the way.