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From Outside the Institution

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!
Oh hep me mama.
No way mom, no way! (a simple "no" has never occurred to her)
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?"
"Okay, say cheetos."
"Meeeer-wad! Yay! Happy!"
"Meeeeeeeer-waaaaaaaaaaaaad! Yay!"

What the?

I really don't know what to say to this post but.......i am first yeehaw! Love the baby language.

You know one my favorite conversation with J......after almost running off the road scaring the holy crap out of myself I let out a string of not so friendly Jesus words and with the save of not crashing. I said "thank you Jesus". And little J said puzzled "What did Jesus do"? Almost like Jesus did something bad. LOL as well as check check.

Seriously: when reading NAgela's blog I shoul dhave no food, drink, make up have just gone to the bathroom and have a tissue handy.

"Soe-dee, soe-dee uh-weven, Fohdee!", aww, to be 30-11 again.

"No way mom, no way!". LOL
When Fashionista was little she'd ask for something and always add to her request "say yeah!", so cute.

See. You should've just called the woman "buttsteak" and then you wouldn't have had as much to explain. :)

I've said it before and I'll say it again - I love that you're capturing all this. How fun will this be, to go back and read someday.

when reading NAgela's blog.... I don't know no NAgela or her blog.

I do however know an Angela and love her blog, humor and kids.


pooka had a phase where she would ask for something and then immediately say, "say yes!" kind of defeats the purpose of asking, doesn't it?

he he he. It is true - adult conversation is good for the soul. absolutely necessary for the sanity. I've been dreading the "why" stage but it didn't come - it's been the "how come" stage instead - and it makes me positively grouchy as hell. so I help him call his dad sometimes to ask how come. dad needs some kid conversation at work, I think. :)

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