Little Jack Horner No comments yet

For Valentine’s Day, I bought Kelly a heart-shaped cookie-cake from Great American Cookies. I also got the same thing for her birthday, a mere two weeks ago, but after the Tae-Bo Video incident of ‘01, I tend to play it safe when it comes to gifts for my wife.

As such, Ian is quite familar with the large, red, square box in which these cakes are served. He’s never actually seen the inside of one of these boxes, but he knows they contain a large quantity of chocolate-chip cookie, pieces of which may or may not be slathered in frosting.

We’ve long since resigned ourselves to the fact that there is nothing Ian can’t reach, given a little persistence and lack of parental foresight. I once heard our car’s horn beep as if I had just locked the doors - I found Ian kneeling on top of our dining room table, playing with my keys.

Earlier this winter, as we led Ian to one of the more manageable slides at our local park, he shrugged away from our help and slowly made his way up the steepest, highest stairs - which are designed so that toddlers can’t climb them - and thence to the steepest, highest slide.

Ian isn’t the most graceful child I’ve ever seen, but he’s as nimble as a mountain goat. A fact which, for some reason, is very easy to forget.

Which is why we put the cookie-cake (in its cookie-box) on top of our kitchen island, a mere four-foot tall wooden cart with shelves. This cart also happens to conveniently resemble Ian’s toy shelves, which he has a tendancy to climb; we failed to recognize this similarity - Ian did not.

We had just given Ian his bath, after which we gave him a small piece of cookie and brushed his teeth. He then disappeared for two minutes, which we also failed to notice…until he came waddling into the den with that look on his face. (This is the same look that causes Debra Barone to ask of Ray, ‘What did you do?!‘)

We rushed to the kitchen; no apparent tomfoolery or noisome misdeads. But wait! Is the cookie-box slightly more ajar than it had been ten minutes ago? And aren’t those crumbs of vanilla frosting scattered on the top island shelf? And hadn’t Ian just been smacking his lips, ever so slightly?

We open the box. A piece is missing!

‘Hey! Honey, did you…’

‘Yeah, I took a small piece.’

‘Oh. Then what…’

And then we notice the small, vanilla frosting swirl which looks as though it’s been crushed.

J’Accuse!

Ha-cha-cha-cha! No comments yet

Words and phrases Ian uses with varying degreees of success, and that I can remember: bus, truck, please, thank you, wow, SpongeBob (this ain’t Scrabble), movie, moon, balloon, up, help, down, mommy, daddy, no, snow, hi, bye, bye-bye, ball, green, ‘Moo!’, ‘Choo-choo!’, apple, ‘What’s that?’, ‘I did it!’, uh-oh, banana, shoe(s), juice, tea, ‘I don’t know.’, go, seat, do, cat, sun, boat, coat, penis, one and ‘Ha-cha-cha-cha!’ (I like Jimmy Durante.)

Letters Ian can recognize and say: B, D, O, Y, X, S, Z, and L.

I’m fascinated by Ian’s language development, but more so by his word selection.

To my knowledge, he’s yet to say ‘toy’ even once, but ‘moon’ is one of his favorites. Why? How many dozens of times per day does he hear the word ‘toy’, and yet his only regular exposure to ‘moon’ is when we read Where the Wild Things Are (during the Royal Rumpus). And one night, before we realized he knew the word, he lifts his head, points to the sky, takes a deep breath and shouts, ‘Moon!’ Well, it sounds more like ‘noon’ or ‘dune’. But still.

And while we’re at it, why was ‘bus’ one of Ian’s earliest words? I think he and I have a fairly close relationship - close enough where he feels comfortable picking my nose. He’s seen me every day of his life; I shook his hand when he was born, yet he hardly ever calls me ‘Daddy’. But there was a time when Ian could spot a bus within a 3-mile radius. ‘Bus! Bus! Bus! Bus!’ Once Ian found himself next to a Hummer H2, and we learned that he could even spy a bus in disguise.

Maybe toys and daddies are too common. Funny though I may be, how can I possibly compete with a bright, shining orb in the sky, or a roaring bus, barrelling down the street, spouting clouds of smoke with a booming voice, ‘33 - LACKLAND ROAD TO WESTPORT!’? And even I find SpongeBob Squarepants more entertaining than myself.

I’ve always been amazed by the moon, but even a cup of tea can send this kid into a dancing frenzy of joy. Occasionally he’ll sing in anticipation of his tea: ‘Teaaa. Teeeeaaaaa. Tea!’ As I watch Ian vocalize his world, I’ve started realizing just how many things I take for granted.