Dancing Without Rhythm

I was thinking today, while driving with the kids, that I might have to be institutionalized if I didn't get to at least talk to Jay on the phone every day. That's a lovely thought to have while driving around town with two darling kids in the backseat, isn't it?

In my defense, they are the reason I'd have to be institutionalized if I didn't have at least one guarantee of adult interaction in a day. Today has been a kid day, so this sad fact seemed to stand out more than usual. J hasn't called yet today, so the jury is still out as to where I may be sleeping tomorrow night.

Here is a sampling of the kind of institution-heading "conversation" I'm referring to.

While driving through the Target parking lot, at a reasonable, safe, non-obnoxious speed, some teeny-bopper in a BMW whipped around me and turned left in front of/beside me just as I was turning left. I had to stop abruptly and she and I briefly made eye contact as she cut me off. I was genuinely surprised by this and I'm sure it registered on my face. But what I said was, "What the hell!? Are you kidding me!?"

"What? What mama? What?"
"What what Benja?"
"Am I kidding you about what, and what does 'what the hell' mean?"
"Oh geez Ben, don't listen to everything I say. Well, do listen to everything I say. But I wasn't talking to you. And 'what the hell' means there are some ridiculous drivers on the road and mom isn't being very smart to talk like that."
"Oh, well stop being ridiculous yourself then."
"Thanks for that."

I didn't say the last line out loud because I really don't want to have to define sarcasm to a three year old.

Later he asked me if Dad was older than "thirty-eleven". Which is actually "soe-dee uh-weven".
"Well, actually, 30-11 isn't a number."
"Yes it is."
"No, it isn't"
"Yes it is! Soe-dee, soe-dee uh-weven, Fohdee!"
"No, it isn't, let's count all the numbers that have 30 in it though."
"No, I don't want to unless Dad's older than 30-11."

And then, I had a strange communication experience with Avee. The girl seems to have lept from the womb walking and expressing herself. There hasn't really been a "learning to talk" stage, she just suddenly started talking in "complete" sentences. And all very necessary phrases.
A few of them:
Get ow-uh way!
Dohn-do-at!
Oh hep me mama.
No way mom, no way! (a simple "no" has never occurred to her)
Juh-see-at!?
Want-to waaaatch!

So, with this obvious grasp on the english language at such an early age, you can imagine my utter shock when this exchange took place.

"You like those cheetos Avee?"
"Ya mama! Ya, baby wike!"
"Can you say cheetos?"
"Ya!"
"Okay, say cheetos."
"Meeeer-wad! Yay! Happy!"
"Cheeeeeeeeee-toooooooooos"
"Meeeeeeeer-waaaaaaaaaaaaad! Yay!"

What the?

Posted by Angela on Thursday, March 08, 2007 at 3/08/2007 | Permalink