Simon has said some hilarious things the past few months. Too bad my memory is shot and I can barely remember any of them!
One utterance popped up yesterday. He wanted to go into the bathroom and brush his teeth in the morning. I was to go with him. He was to use “The Thomas tooth brush” and I was to use “the grumpy toothbrush.”
Huh? Turns out he was trying to say “grown-up”, but I swear it came out as “grumpy” and seemed a funny but apt way to phrase it. Grownups must seem pretty grumpy to your average preschooler.
Aside from one-offs I can’t remember, we are getting several new funny constructions that characterize Simon’s speech at three.
One is the not-so-artful excuse. Whenever Simon doesn’t want to do something, he has a set list of reasons why he can’t from which to draw:
- I’m too tired to do X.
- I’m too sad to do X.
- X is too noisy for me.
- X is too scary for me.
Now let the record show that I can tell this is baloney 99% of the time for two simple reasons:
- The excuses mostly come when he is tired or cranky.
- The problem rarely matches the issue at hand.
For example, it is not compelling to be told that “I’m too tired to go to sleep”. Nor am I likely to be moved by hearing that Simon’s noise machine, which he has had since birth, “is too noisy for me.” Finally, while some food may be scary, I am pretty sure that grilled cheese is not. Unless maybe Matt makes it….
And speaking of “maybe”, Simon loves this word and liberally peppers his speech with it.
“Simon, what would you like to do?” I ask.
“Huuuuum, watch Curious George maybe” he answers.
or
“Simon, what would you like for dinner?”
“Huuuuum, maybe grilled cheese.”
When it’s not too scary for him that is.
The really funny part of this for me is that my Sudanese friends also use the word maybe in similarly un-idiomatic ways, placing it in the wrong place or using it to mean “I hope.” Thus, “Maybe I will graduate this year” and “I will maybe do my laundry today.”
And the final bit of the Simon patois that’s making me giggle these days is “That’s a good plan.” It would seem that no decision is too small to be elevated to “good plan” status.
“Simon? Do you want to play with the marble run before we go upstairs for bed?”
“Yes, I do want to. [His affirmations are getting long and formal.] That’s a good plan, Mommy.”
Whatever you say, Simon. Whatever you say…