Be careful what you say…

It is truly amazing to me how quickly the Munchkin’s verbal skills are developing, and how much she remembers. A few examples:

Sunday, she was asking about where the Webmaster and Auntie were. “Remember that I told you that Auntie wouldn’t be at church today?” I said to her.

She nodded. “Auntie school,” she replied.

“No, Auntie’s at camp.” Then I paused. “Where’s Daddy?” I asked her curiously.

“Daddy in baffroom.”


I had quite a bit of laundry to do, since I hadn’t been able to tackle any of it on Saturday, thanks to the power outage. The Webmaster has old BDU’s (battle dress uniform, or camos to those who don’t know the military shorthand) that he has used as paintball gear and more recently, as painting clothes. These were in the wash yesterday as I was sorting clothes.

The Munchkin saw the BDU’s. “Oh, dis’s Jonatan’s,” she tells me.

She has not seen her uncle, my brother the Captain, in BDU’s since Thanksgiving of 2004. He didn’t have them with him when they came for Christmas. The reason that she knows that he wears these is because there is a picture of him in the nursery in his BDU’s that she is quite familiar with. And the little wheels in her head made that connection, and out it came. Camos belong to the Captain.


The Munchkin has been working on learning about what happens at different times of day – for example, she used to refer to all meals as “break-tis.” I have taught her the word “dinner,” but whenever she wants food, it usually gets referred to as “break-tis.”

Yesterday evening, though, she was very direct. Marching around the kitchen while I was cooking, she was chanting, “I want dinner, I want dinner!”

I rejoiced at the her use of a pronoun. Then I just wanted her to be quiet.


I listen to the radio a lot. The Munchkin has been listening, too.

While she was coloring (in an attempt to distract her from the “I want dinner” chant), a jingle for a local mortgage company came on. All of a sudden, I hear a little voice singing, “one-tipa-eigh, seben seben eigh” (which is part of the company’s phone number – the jingle says “one-triple-eight, seven seven eight” and goes on from there).

I called my mother, who thought it was a hoot.


So, you get the idea. She is a little myna bird and we have to be very careful around her, because we never know what she’ll say next. She sniffs her little brother’s bottom and says, “Ooooh, baby stink!” She is starting to ask for a “diaper change.” And her father tried to teach her to say “Mommy crazy.”

He tried displaying this trick to me recently. “Munchkin, say ‘Mommy crazy’,” he encouraged.

“Mommy mean crazy,” she said gleefully.

I looked at my husband, who was looking at her in horror. “I didn’t teach her that,” he protested.

Myna bird, indeed.

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