At the age of two, our son is quite the chatterbox, especially when we’re at home. He sometimes rambles on for two full minutes, stringing together a delightful mix of thoughts. I can usually catch enough recognizable words to grasp the essence of his stories and respond in kind.
“Oh, really?”
“Is that so?”
“Mmmm-hmmm.”
My husband and I have come to realize just how much of a sponge he is, absorbing every word we say and echoing them back like a rather large, featherless parrot. As a precaution, I’ve been substituting my usual choice of expletives with alternative phrases that sound a bit ridiculous, like “Oh, shucks” and “shoot.” The phrase that brings our little one the most joy, eliciting fits of giggles, is “Mother of PEARL.”
Just the other night, we were gathered around the dinner table, and my husband was proudly sharing his achievements in metal recycling.
“Remember all the teasing you gave me about saving those cans in the garage?” he said.
“Mmmmm-hmmm,” I replied, dishing out Brussels sprouts, as our son chimed in with a dramatic “Nooooo, not Brussels sprouts!” over our conversation. I still recall the heaps of aluminum cluttering our garage’s pristine interior, and while I wasn’t thrilled about those cans in our son’s Radio Flyer wagon, I let it slide.
“I made fourteen dollars from those two bags and seven bucks for the old radiator from the car,” he continued.
“Seven bucks, seven bucks!” our toddler joyfully repeated. Now, his monologues often include a chorus of “seven bucks” and the cryptic phrase “four times,” along with other mysterious terms only he seems to understand.
Growing up, my full-blooded Italian grandmother taught my sister and me how to say the most absurd phrases in her melodious language, like “I’m single with two kids” or “you have an ugly face.” My mother would laugh, saying, “Great. Now you have to explain what that means.” I still remember how to say, in Sicilian slang, “large male appendage.” My grandmother would laugh until tears streamed down her face. Knowing how to say “I’ll break your face” in Sicilian has its own charm, too; it definitely has that mafia vibe.
My husband, who comes from a lineage of proper English roots and genteel Texans, is horrified whenever I bring up this quirky skill. He can’t comprehend the idea of discussing such topics with our son when he’s older. I’ll save those stories for another day, when our little parrot can truly appreciate them, and we can share a laugh with his grandmother, just like my sister and I did.
A few weeks ago, while using FaceTime with my sister and her three daughters, she mentioned the color of her new front door: Black Fox. My toddler enthusiastically repeated “black fox,” which sounded suspiciously similar to a certain four-letter word. Go ahead and try it out loud, and say “fox” with a British accent—it’s both hilarious and endearing.
My sister and I, despite being miles apart and connected only by an iPhone, couldn’t stop laughing. It’s especially funny when he gets right up close to the camera and says it. My husband often reminds me that what’s funny now may not be so amusing later. I’m sure he’s right. Just like I shouldn’t laugh when our son burps or passes gas, yet my son and I share a chuckle while my husband shoots me a disapproving look. We’ll save the correction for his kindergarten teacher later.
If you’re interested in more personal stories and parenting tips, check out this engaging post on Modern Family Blog. For those considering at-home insemination, you can find great options at reputable retailers like Make A Mom, which offers quality insemination kits. Also, if you’re looking for comprehensive information on pregnancy and home insemination, this link to Wikipedia on in vitro fertilisation is an excellent resource.
In summary, parenting a toddler is full of surprises and laughter, especially as they start to mimic everything they hear. Each moment is an opportunity for joy, connection, and a bit of chaos—just like life should be.
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