The title above refers to an old Dana Carvey routine when his son asks him, “Dad – does God have feet?” We use the phrase “must…get…help” pretty often around our house these days. In fact, we have said it with all three of our kids ever since my son was a baby.
Abby continues to be ridiculously cute, with her blond curls and funny vocabulary. She continues to mispronounce “f” as “s”:
“Daa – here’s you cossee”. Translation: Dada – here’s your coffee. Of course, this is usually accompanied by me frantically leaping from my chair in an effort to keep Abby from spilling hot coffee on herself or others, or my crotch.
“Daa – turn it oss. I don’t wike dat sound!” Abby seems to have inherited bionic ears from somewhere, as she senses any distant sound (“whatsat noise?!”) long before we do. “I’m not sure what that sound is – perhaps the TV downstairs? Maybe a satellite signal undetectable by normal human ears?”
One of my favorite new developments for her is the fact that she doesn’t say, “NO!” as often. Instead, it has been replaced with the simple “I can’t.” Not openly defiant, right? She is unable to accommodate your request, that’s all. This reminds me of a somewhat obscure Melville story called “Bartleby the Scrivener” wherein the protagonist states, “I would prefer not to” for the entire tale. Of course, that story ends very sadly, so forget I said anything.
For some reason, Abby sounds a little more like southern belle Scarlett O’Hara when she says certain phrases, so “I can’t” is really “I cayunt”, as if she is going to say, “I do believe that I am coming down with a case of the vapors.” Neither my wife nor I have much trace of an accent (truly), so this is an interesting twist.
Any time we see a furry animal, such as a rabbit in the yard (there are several), or a stray dog, or a sloth at the zoo, Abby’s response is very predictable:
“Can I pet her? I want to pet her. Can I pet her?”
Unfortunately, “petting” our cats often means picking up our smallest cat/kitten by the neck. The cat is learning to defend itself a little bit, but Abby is undeterred by our punishments, or by being bitten or scratched. I think she must honestly think that the cat is stuffed sometimes.
We went swimming the other night, and I realized that Abby thought the pool was called “the swim”:
“Daa – I see the swim. I see it! It’s the swim.”
We always talk about going swimming, but pool was not something we had taught until then.
I promise to share some new pictures of the kids again soon. It has been months. For those of you who are attending my party/gathering this weekend, you’ll have a chance to meet them all.
Thanks for reading!