Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Snippets of Weekend Conversation

Bump: Tampa Bay lost again.
Me: Poor Sarah.
Bump: Yeah, poor Sarah.
In unison: [snickering]

I don’t mean to make fun (okay, maybe a little), because I really do feel sorry for her. Do you know how sad it is to go to her house and bear full witness to the four of them, all cutely decked out in their Bucs jerseys, watching their team lose? It is really, really heartbreaking. You can smell the chicken or ribs or whatever Gabe’s got cooking, which is divine even when you’re nauseous, but then must watch the writhing and garment-rending and gnashing of teeth. It is quite horrific.

And kind of funny. In an anguished, cannot-watch-but-cannot-avert-my-eyes sort of way.

--

Me: Can you say Mama?
Lumpyhead: Mama
Me: Can you say Papa?
Lumpyhead: Papa
Me: Can you say Grandma?
Lumpyhead: [blinks]
Me: Can you say Grandpa?
Lumpyhead: [blinks]
Me: Can you say Nana?
Lumpyhead: (whispering) Nana
Me: Very good! Can you say Mama?
Lumpyhead: (grinning) Papa

Already he's a comic.

--

Bump: So, you gonna be wearing that bobby pin from now on?
Me: Yeah, probably. At least for a little while. I know, it looks dumb.
Bump: It’s not so bad.
Me: It looks pretty dumb.
Bump: [pause] Maybe a little dumb.

I have a hair issue. I've developed bangs. Well, pseudo bangs. Let's just say it's not good. If you've got any advice that doesn't involve me looking like (more of) a complete dope, let me hear it.

--

The following is as reported to me by Bump; I was taking a big fat nap at the time. Lumpyhead has a set of blocks with little shapes inset in them. One is round, with a blue and yellow ball inside.

Lumpyhead: There's a ball trapped inside this damn cylinder (voiced as "Uhh!).
Bump: Is that a ball?
Lumpyhead: Get it out (also voiced as "Uhh!", as Lumpyhead hands Bump the offending item).
Bump: Yeah, that's a ball.
Lumpyhead: No. Get it out of the cylinder. Set it free so I may play with it (again, "Uhh!", accompanied now by angry gestures).
Bump: Do you like that ball?
Lumpyhead: Get. It. Out. (you can guess)
Bump: Yeah, it's stuck in there
Lumpyhead: GET IT OUT NOW! (like before, only louder)
Bump: I'm afraid I can't get it out of there.
Lumpyhead: NOOOOO! Get it out, Father! Set it free! (louder, and now with whining!)
Bump: [briefly considers breaking the plastic cylinder to set the ball free, then reconsiders as it is perfectly sized to lodge in a baby esophagus.] Sorry, Little Guy. That ball is stuck in there.
Lumpyhead: [wails]

The thing is, when we actually understand what Lumpyhead is saying, he gets very excited. He doesn't have many words, so when we interpret "bah" correctly as "Read some of those enchanting books to me, please," he gets a very wide grin on his face. Bump describes Lumpyhead's expressions during the above conversation as the "Yes! You understand!" grin mixed with the "Why do you fail to comply with my demands?" scowl followed by the "Woe is me!" whine/wail.


How was your weekend?

7 comments:

E :) said...

Went to New York. Was fun. Got so much work to do this week though so I'm not to happy now... Grr.

sweatpantsmom said...

"So, you gonna be wearing that bobby pin from now on?"

This is eerie, but I got this EXACT question from my 10-year old the other day. Don't these people know that bobby pins are da bomb?

Sarah, Goon Squad Sarah said...

Screw you guys.

Gidge said...

Leave the Bucs fans alone.
We're carrying this big old albatross, you don't have to MAKE FUN of us too!

stefanierj said...

My circa-1989 Winona-Ryder-esque answer to the bobby pin was to use barettes for little girls whenever I wanted a little more whimsy. Or to appear very, very old and sad. I'm cool like that.

And now I'm going to have to go and start reading Sarah again, because I am a Steelers fan and things arent much better for us these days.

Lori said...

Try being here IN Tampa AT the game. My heart is squashed all over that field every Sunday.

Daddy L said...

Don't any of you watch the Canadian Football League?

BC has clinched first place and will host the division final. Should I take The Boy to a cavernous dome with 60,000 screaming fans (complete with face-paint and drunken fights?) or watch it at home with him?

Beer's better at home, but who am I going to fight?