“Mom, can you make homemade applesauce?”
“Mom, can I try the homemade applesauce?”
“Thumbs up on the homemade applesauce, mom.”
“Can I have some homemade applesauce, mom?”
“Mom, can I have some more homemade applesauce?”
Guess what I made this weekend.
That was all Kate, by the way. And that’s how she says it every time: “homemade applesauce”.
Flora’s questions are getting to the point that I have to say to her, “I don’t know. We’ll have to look it up.” For example, our conversation about manatees.
Why manatees? Because every day on the way to school, we pass a house where the mailbox is held by a manatee statue.
I don’t know.
Anyhoo, it all started with, “Do manatees have gills?” (No, they are mammals and have lungs.) And then, “How long can they hold their breath? How big are baby manatees? What are baby manatees called?” Answers from wikipedia that I reported to Flora later: “Up to 20 minutes. Big, 66 pounds! Calves.”
But we’re also running into questions she asks that she doesn’t understand the answers. I’ll try to explain something, like the definition of a word (politics was a recent one, and also “generalities”), and she’ll simply say, “I don’t understand the words you’re using.” So we’ve hit a little bit of a wall lately. We’re working on it.
Dan, getting off the phone with his mother: “Okay, Mom. Should I just send the kids over to the haus?”
Flora: “Did you just say ‘haus’?”
Me: rolling on the floor with laughter.
We are a Pittsburgh family, and Dan was born & raised here. He worked hard to get rid of his Pittsburgh accent (i.e. haus for house, warsh for wash), and has been mostly successful. But he tends to lapse when talking to other ‘burgers with a Pittsburgh accent, like his mom.
So it’s around us. The other day, Flora booted up the Wii to play Mario Kart, and — I kid you not — declared of her opponent, “You’re going dahn.”
Michael, my precocious little boy, babbles all.the.time. He is constantly telling me… something. And echoing, already. He tries to sing the ABCs (hilarious). He repeats “buckle”, “circle”, and “thank you” (“uk-el”, “irkle”, and “takooo”). He actually uses his version of thank you appropriately, such as when I hand him something. “Tak-ooo,” he coos, and then I melt into a puddle on the floor.
Does he say “mama”, though? Nope. Ah, well. Someday he’ll say it eleventy-billion times in a row.
What do your kids say that cracks you up? Or sends you to Wikipedia for answers?