Oliver is a spectacular young specimen. I am so fond of his good-natured attempts to communicate with us. Slowly, sounds are forming words in their most primitive states. “Eh, eh, eh, eh-eeehhhhhh!” is the sound a witch makes, or anytime anyone makes reference to a witch within Oliver’s earshot.
“Jsssssss” is for “juice,” a beverage I have mixed feelings about, but one which has again made its entry into a young child’s life more because his older brother is so fond of it.
“Towsssssss” is toast. Which means pretty much any bread product. Though I recently opened the pull-out drawer where we keep our toaster and found two plastic bagels snugly tucked inside of one slot (don’t worry, the thing isn’t plugged in). So, I guess a plastic product that has the appearance of a bread product counts too.
“Shhhssssss” is shoes, of course. Which means, I want to get out of here. Pronto.
And also, just recently, we discovered that Oliver is actually saying tons of words. But not really SAYING them. He whispers his words. He whispers all of the animal noises he knows. A lion does not ROAR! it merely roars. And if you are wearing one, Oliver will state the presence your hat. And cheese is nothing to shout about, either.
And his trickery is simply genius. Because with a loud, social, outgoing, demanding, spirited older brother, I think Oliver figures he needs to think outside the box with this attention stuff. Competing in the typical “squeaky wheel” manner would still not outROAR Milo. No, a whisper will make them bend down. Listen. Come closer. Listen again. I will tell you something special.
And I will tell it to you in the mustache my brother demanded I wear with him this morning.
Until I ripped it off and threw it in the dirt. this sucks.