In our house we often ask the six-year-old Peanut if he can hear us. We repeat requests *a lot* and have many ways of asking him to make eye contact so he can actually connect his ears to his brain, a link that seems detrimental to six-year-old existence and is therefore bypassed as often as possible.
I have no doubt that the two-year-old Butter is listening, though. He’s fascinated by words and wants to use them all.
Especially if they get a laugh.
At breakfast the other day, Peanut announced that, through some fault of mine in the cutting and cream cheesing of his breakfast, his was a poopy bagel.
Butter laughed so hard I feared for his safety.
He’s been repeating the phrase ever since. Except that, since he doesn’t know the word “poopy,” he heard “poop pee.” And he’s reversed it in his mind. So several times he says, “Mom. Pee poo bage-o! Hahahahahaha!”
And I can’t stop laughing. Sooooo wrong, I know. But I can’t help myself. It’s so completely ridiculous to have pee poo bagels (though maybe now, because of the wild popularity of this blog, Trader Joe’s will introduce a sprouted pee poo bagel…)
This morning during my shower, the door opened and a little face worked hard to belt out “pee…poo…bage-o!” and shut the door quickly. I laughed, quite against my will. And for a long time. He repeated it three times and then was done.
I find it fascinating that his comedic timing includes a willingness to let a joke go after three or four tellings.
I’m sure that will change in a few years. Right about the time he stops listening.