Before I begin this post, let me acknowledge that I am well aware people grow leary quickly of parents talking about their children in fawning fashion. David Cross speaks excellently to this reality as someone on the other side of the fence on his hilarious second full-length of stand-up material, "It's Not Funny," calling his friends' decsions to have children "selfish and rude," among other things, before lamenting the subsequently terrible way in which new parents insist upon spending conversational time telling you all of the "banal minutiae" their kids do with a poorly hidden expectation that you will likewise find it no less thrilling and/or precious.
All of that said... I'm going to do it anyway, so feel free to skip this post. You won't hurt my feelings.
Last night, after dinner, Claire (my nearly two year-old daughter) and I went out for a "Daddy-Daughter" night. The first of our two stops was the Winfield Public Library, or - for the purposes of Claire's pronunciation skills - the "bribery." We were on a mission to get some more "bookies" about "Liney,"* "George," and "Bears." Walking into the Library, my daughter announced this to its studiously quiet patrons with no shortage of volume. Gently, I whispered to her an explanation that when we were in the bribery, we needed to whisper so as not to bother the other people reading bookies. "Pisher," Claire responded, much more quietly, indicating that she got it. For the next few minutes, Claire pishered all of her observations to me, from the "(s)noman" poster on the wall to the other girls in the bribery "reedin." Once we'd gotten all of the bookies we'd come for, we approached the check-out counter and took a seat on the big chairs.
At this point, Claire's night was already made, but we ventured on through the lightly falling snow to a nearby Steak n Shake to sample their newly advertised Fruit and Frozen Yogurt Milkshakes. To fully appreciate what ensued, you need to know that one of the first things Claire ever learned was the sign for "more." Even though she can now say the word perfectly -and does so quite often- she sometimes ups the ante by signing and speaking it at the same time. Once we'd arrived home and she'd had her first sip, the signing and speaking (and occasional shouting) began, alternately for "ice cream," "chilly," and "cold," all while reading bookies.
I can totally sympathize if you're reading this and thinking that it sounds like a lame Monday night - I never used to understand the phenomena of simple parental enjoyment either. But I certainly do now, and I hope that someday we'll talk about it together and both get it.
Until then, I'll keep sharing my banal minutiae.
dj
* If you've never read "Liney" (see also: The "Madeline" Series by Ludwig Bemelmans), I recommend starting with "Madeline" before moving on to such classics as the above pictured "Madeline's Rescue," in which Madline "jumps" into water, yells "help, please" to a "doggy," and then cries a lot to get her doggy back so it can have [countable] "puppies" for all the girls.
