Monday, June 13, 2011

Conversations with a 3 year old.

My child has started talking. And when I say, "talking" I don't mean, "Mama, dada, or baba." I mean long-winded, surprisingly articulate speeches that NEVER END. Speeches on his favorite things; Toy Story, Power Rangers, Magic Tree House. Speeches on completely random people, places or events. Or even a play by play on his latest(imaginary) fight. The latter is by far my favorite. There is just something so funny about listening to a three year old in his sweet little voice telling you about how he punched someone in the face because they kicked him in the wee wee. And please don't ask me where he gets this stuff because I have NO idea. I have a sneaking suspicion he gets it from his older brother, who in turn gets it from school, but truthfully, I'll probably never know. Which is probably a good thing because I wouldn't want to have to put the smack down on some poor kid because he's been teaching mine about violence. I mean, REALLY.

My absolute favorite thing about these speeches is that they are just that. Speeches. No listener participation required. No, "mhmms or oh, really's?" necessary. Eye contact? Pretty sure that isn't needed either. In fact, I think all Kyle requires is a warm body-no wait. Scratch that. I think all Kyle needs is a vague human shaped object. And I'm not even 100% sure on that, either. I probably shouldn't admit this to the internet lest anyone thinks I'm a terrible mother, but I've been known to space out a time or two during these long-winded, one sided conversations...And I kid you not, five full minutes later, he's still chattering away. Completely oblivious to his non-audience. And that is exactly what I mean when I say listener participation is not required.

I only hope he keeps talking like this. I hope I get to enjoy listening to him talk and talk and talk well into adulthood. I dread the day when I have to drag out even single syllable answers to the simplest of questions. How was your day? Fine. What did you do? Nothing. What did you learn? Stuff. Ugh.

Dear Lord, please let my babies never be teenagers. Amen.

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