Da-dee

Ryan’s understood a lot of English for a while now, but he’s been pretty adamant about not speaking it. You can ask him to point out certain things (“Where’s the couch? Where’s your hair? Where’s daddy’s nose?”) and it sometimes surprises me that he knows almost every word I’ve thrown at him. The only ones that really confuse him (and we’re still working on these) are the ones that require fine distinctions, like ‘whore’ versus ‘slut’, or ‘beer’ versus ‘watered down piss called Budweiser’.

I’m kidding! He really just gets confused when you ask him about his knees or elbows — right now he thinks they’re synonyms for leg and arm. He also gets confused about carpet versus rug versus floor. Normal stuff, considering that there’s qualities shared between them and there’s only a limited number of examples in the house I can point out to him.

Recently, though, he’s been starting to say more and more words the best he can. He’ll say ‘ma-mo’ when he points to Elmo, his little sister Alyssa is ‘ee-aah’, please is ‘dee’, that sort of thing. He’s been pretty consistent about them, and a few of them are starting to become more well-formed. Sometimes, I can tell that he knows what he’s trying to say, but I haven’t figured it out yet.

Which is interesting, you know. I didn’t realize that, as an adult, I’d have to learn English again.

So I’m getting Ryan ready for the day, and he indicates (by trying to leap out of my arms) that he wants to go over and say good morning to his “buddies” — a large wall decoration featuring the Sesame Street characters. So we lumber over there:

Stephen: Say ‘Good morning, Elmo!’

Ryan: Ma-mo!

Good morning, Cookie Monster!

Ke-ke!

Good morning, Oscar the Grouch!

Da-dee!

A pause.

No, say ‘Oscar the Grouch!’

Da-dee! Da-dee da-dee da-dee!

Like I said, he’s a pretty sharp kid.