Category: Talking

Jeffrey and Eleanor never talk about what they do at school, at least not voluntarily.  The most we can eke out of them is through very specific questions about something they find exciting.  Recently we asked Jeffrey what games he plays with his friends at recess, and found that he and the other boys spend much of their playtime running away from a “Kissing Girl.”

A kissing girl!  One of society’s oldest recess traditions!  I was briefly a kissing girl in second grade, myself.  It is oddly reassuring to know that this bizarre childhood game is still alive and well.

However, at other times Jeff or Ella will, all on their own, blurt out some random piece of information pertaining to a recent school lesson, leaving me rather mystified.  Figuring out the context is everything.

Jeffrey: “Mom, I want to learn the kind of fighting that Kung Fu Panda does, only it’s not called ‘Kung Fu,’ but something else.”  Source?  A unit on Korea that included a video of Tae Kwon Do. 

Since then, Jeff has been constantly talking about this martial art whose name he can never remember except as “Kung Fu but not Kung Fu.”  Which sounds like some cockamamie “technique of no technique” that sprung from the universe of Mortal Kombat.

Eleanor: “Mom, another word for a cape is cloak.”  Source?  Reading “Little Red Riding Hood” in preschool.

Jeffrey (while cuddling on my lap): “Mom, can you feel me with your sensors?” 

Uh . . .

“Yeah, like your tongue.  Go ahead and taste me.” 

Erm.

Source?  Learning about the five senses as part of science class.

Tonight at bedtime I read stories to Jeffrey while Brian read stories to William.  (Eleanor was already down in bed with the flu.)  For some reason, William was not keen on the idea of stories from Brian tonight, and kicked up a great big noisy fuss.

Jeffrey, on hearing the various screams coming from William’s room, simply shook his head.

“You know what?  Daddy should have been a dentist instead of a doctor.”

Oh?  Why was that?

“If he was a dentist, then he would be able to help Wimmy with his screaming.” 

Pressed for details, Jeffrey furrowed his brow in concentration, and tried to explain.  “Daddy should be a dentist because the screams are coming from William’s mouth.”

Well.  That’s simply logic, that is.  If only I had known before now that a toddler’s screams could be mollified by a dentist!

“Yeah, Daddy should have gone down the dentist trail instead of the doctor trail,” he concluded with the kind of sage nod of the head that is wonderfully hilarious on a person wearing Spider Man pajamas.

A few posts ago I wrote about how William has developed the habit of saying “Missed you!” whenever he sees someone who has been absent for a while.  Whenever I pick him up from nursery school, that’s the first thing he says to me: “Missed you, Mommy!”  He usually accompanies these words with a big smile, an adorable tilt of the head, and his chubby hands curled up under his chin.

Well.  You can imagine the positive reinforcement we’ve given him over that, so now he’s begun to say “Missed you” to anybody who has been absent for a matter of minutes, or sometimes not at all.

Oh my gosh!  Dad was in the living room and he was in the study?  “Missed you!”

Big brother was in the backyard?  “Missed you!”

Mom was sitting on the other side of the table from him?  “Missed you!”

We can’t help it, though — it’s so, so adorable that we all tackle him with hugs and kisses whenever he does it.  I’m feeling rather certain that his intentions are guileless, that this is simply his message of saying “Hey, there you are!  I need some loveys from you!”

Last night, Brian and I had to go to the Verizon store and pick out a new phone.  All three children were dragged along, and it was painful.  On the way home, everyone was cranky, including Brian and I, and our tone of voice showed it.  After making a few cutting remarks at each other, our children began butting in.  This is a transcript of what I remember them saying:

ELEANOR: No no, Daddy!  Your voice should be smooth and handsome, like a gentleman!

BRIAN: Thanks, Eleanor.  I needed to remember that.

ELEANOR: And Mommy, your voice should be pretty and lovely, like a lady.

[Oy with the gender conditioning, already!]

BROOKE: Okay, Eleanor.  Thanks.

ELEANOR: And we should all speak nicely and not fight with each other.

JEFFREY: Well, I think you should speak like a supervisor!

BRIAN: What does a supervisor say?

JEFFREY: HI, MY NAME IS JOE!

[Wimmy babbles incoherently]

JEFFREY: I THINK YOU SHOULD GET TO WORK, JOE!

BROOKE AND BRIAN: [sound of muffled hysterical laughter]