He's just now gaining a hold on the English language. He's been saying "mama" and "dada" for a while, but he's starting to say really funny stuff. Most of the time he just babble, and babbles in a language someone, somewhere understands, but it's not us and it's not here. He sounds like an angry Chinaman and is content talking to himself.
Tonight, we had a family dinner at my mom's house. She recently acquired another cat (after having killed her last cat via blue toilet water). This cat's name is Blanche and she got it from a male nurse at her work (who I am confident is gay, but that's neither here nor there).
Blanche is a 6 month old kitty who is mostly white with grey and tan spots, and Blanch is incredibly skittish. She hides under any surface she can find and meows incessantly. If the cat is afraid of adults who will generally leave her alone, imagine when you throw a curious toddler into the mix.
M wasn't thrill about going to GaLu's for dinner, but was persuaded at the thought of a cat being present. Apparently, M was meowing in his cute little voice the entire ride over. Upon his arrival, M found a new word. And that word was "dat" (which is M's word for "cat").
He wouldn't leave the "dat" alone. Blanche fled to the underside of my mom's bed shortly upon M's arrival and stayed there safely for the remainder of the night. M would walk into my mom's room, lift up the bedskirt and yell "dat!' "dat!" at poor Blanche.
What I love is that little kids always find the person (or animal) that doesn't love kids and sticks to them for the rest of the night. Blanche was less-than-thrilled that M was hanging around screeching "dat!" at her all night, but M loves that "dat."
I'm certain Blanche was relieved when M went home for the night. Little does she know that in a few short weeks M will be staying at her house for a whole week while his house gets hard-wood-floored. Prepare now, Blanche, prepare now, poor dat.
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