Boyses 17/11/12

Sir A about to crash into Lord B. “No Mumi! I don’t like that! Noo!” *wails as he gets ignored and crashed into* “P-hunny?”

Lord B: “Sorry, I didn’t mean to damage the wall.” “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The CD player in my bedroom stopped working. Luckily I have the sleep CD plus a couple more of the same kind of music on my phone, so I just have to leave that with Sir A once he’s asleep (a foot or two away, of course, so as to reduce the amount of radiation he’s exposed to).

His new routine at bedtime is to lie on the bed all ready for mim, say “other side” if I offer him his brother’s side instead of his.

I ask him, “You want your music?”


“Oh, ok.”

Seconds later: “More?” (It’s his word for wanting something he doesn’t know the word of yet.)

“Ok, here you go.” I switch it on.

Squawks of annoyance. I’ve forgotten, as usual, that he wants to do it himself.

Pause it, and show him where to press, which he does. Then he settles down to go to sleep. If it’s his nap. If it’s bedtime there’re many interludes of playing silly buggers, which are too sweet to get annoyed at. Most of the time. One is pointing out the baby owls on his jamas: “Bibit” (baby and bird, handy), “too too too”.

Lord B: “Just a moment.” “There’s no time to lose!” And just as cute, though not overly polite, “Out of my way, express coming through!” Thanks Gordon.

In the last week or two Sir A has started refusing to partake of the communal porridge pot with the communal spoon.

You’re probably thinking you don’t blame him. It’s just them two littlies and me. And since I have to eat the leftovers, it’s just easier to have it all in one bowl.

I had been feeding them from it to avoid mess (I don’t do mess in the morning) but Sir A decided he needed to feed himself, which is ok since I convinced him half spoons were the way to go. Much less messy.

So I’ll offer him a spoon, he’ll say “uh-uh”, and run off to the kitchen singing “poon! poon!”. Sometimes he comes back with a serving spoon. A bit big even for my mouth. I’m tempted to put the cutlery drawer lower so they can get their own forks and spoons but worried it’ll end up with them just playing with them…

Phone rhymes with poon if you ask Sir A. If he finds it he gives it to you saying “den”. This means “here you go”.

Didij means jersey, t-shirt, Jesus, and something else I’m momentarily forgotten. Sometimes it’s quite hard to know which he means.

Amazing Husband broke the handle of his coffee cup a few weeks ago. Every time Sir A sees the cup he gesticulates and points and announces: “Oh dear! All bubba! (broken) Oh dear! Oh dear! Aaaall bubba!”

Lord B sometimes likes to talk in Sir Asian. He thinks this means he can avoid “please” and “nanku” (actually sometimes he says thank you these days). Sir A is, however starting to say please and thank you now. It sounds like “dees” and “den” or “den-den”.

When we go out in the car Sir A likes to say either “crash!” (his version thereof) in a very bloodthirsty way, or “watch out!” I find it mildly offensive, since I’ve never crashed. Scraping the side of the car on chimney or gate post don’t count.

They both like to say “ready, steady, go” and then start running. Sir A hasn’t quite got it yet, though. He says something more like “Deddy, go, deddy, go!”

Lord B is at times most compliant. Ask him to do something and he’ll say “Of course I will” as if we’re being most unreasonable assuming he won’t.

In a week my grandmother is arriving. Lord B keeps asking, “Where’s GG and the Christmas Kree? GG’s coming on a plane. The Christmas Kree’s in the gar-age.”

Sir A likes to point out ownership. “Daddy.” “Daddy p-hone.” (P and H are separate sounds.)

When Sir A is being a stout monkey he thinks it’s a great idea to say “P-hunny!” When we get annoyed. No, Sir A, not funny.

Lord B is getting most good at identifying emotions. His and others’.

Yesterday at the climbing wall he said, “I’m worried”, thinking he might fall.

In the car the other day Sir A was sadding and Lord B said, “Mumi’s sad cos he really wanted to see Banban (Gwanpa) and he can’t see him and so he’s sad.”

He’s also been asking if we’re cross quite a lot, but seems to have figured out that concentrating faces don’t mean cross faces – “You cross? Just concentrating?”


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