Two-Year-Old

December 29, 2008

2-Year-Old has a unique and very curious way of talking.  And I use the term “talking” loosely.

VERY loosely.

Yummy Man tried to talk me into putting a sound clip on this here blog for you to hear him, because it is very hard to describe this gift of his.  But I wouldn’t hear of it because I don’t want anyone laughing at 2-Year-Old and I don’t want him to have a need for counseling later in life because of it.

Also?  It’s too tech-geeky for me.  And even though I AM a geek, it’s a different kind of geek than a techy one.  Actually, it’s a BETTER kind of geek if you must know.

So.

What this means is that I have to describe it to you which will be a tough job.

VERY tough.

Basically, every “word” he utters begins with a consonant.  And then there are no other consonants in those words.  And each word is 72 letters long.

So the word he may be saying at any given moment will be spelled like this……..daeoeuie……and, in case you are trying to translate the New Testament into 2-year-old-ese, it will SOUND like this………..

Daaaaaaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeuuuuuuiiiiiiii.

And every new vowel will have a new noise to go with it. 

It’s kinda like the noises that Curious George makes.

If Curious George was on speed.

And to make matters worse, 2-Year-Old will utter one of these “words” while looking up at me with his eyebrows drawn together, his lips pursed, his shoulders raised, and his diaper dirty.

And I’m supposed to figure out what he wants.

Now, granted, I have had 8 other 2-year-olds before I got him, but that doesn’t help me.  Because this is a whole new language for me.  And I STINK at spoken languages, let me tell you.

Basically, I will go through every possible scenario that he could even remotely be in need of and it usually involves matchbox cars.  He utters the sound while making motions down the hall.  I follow him back to his room and then we stand, peering into his crib while he informs me what he needs.

Sounds easy, right?

What I didn’t tell you was that there are 823 matchbox cars in his crib and he wants me to get specific ones out and if I just lift him into the crib and tell him to get them out himself, he ain’t  havin’ that.  The cars MUST be touched by Mommy for some freaky 2-year-old reason that is probably only explained  in the 2-Year-Old For Dummies handbook that I lost.  Six kids ago.

MAN, I should have this down pat by now, wouldn’t you think?

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