I’m sitting at the kitchen table with the toddler. He’s twenty-one months old and is learning to talk. He can say quite a few words and is even starting to put together sentences… but who needs sentences?
Me: (spreading butter) “Yes, I’m going to have toast… mmm.”
Me: “Yes it’s Mummy’s toast, you’ve got sandwiches though – much better.”
Toddler: (waving arms wildly) “TOAST!!”
Me: “You’d like some would you? Some plain toast that’s nowhere near as interesting as that sandwich I just painstakingly made for you? You’re really sure?”
Toddler: (reaching frantically) “TOOOOOOAAAAAST!”
Me: (Sighs) “Ok, ok, I’ll cut you a bit of mine, here you g..”
Toddler: (Snatches) “TOAST! TOAST!!”
Me: “Say ‘thank you’… so, are you going to eat that then?”
Toddler: (waving toast above head victoriously) “TOAST! TOASTY, TOASTY, TOAST!!”
Me: “Yes poppet, it’s toast, are you going t…oh” (watches as toast sails in a graceful arc across the room)
Turns out he wanted yogurt.
To paint with.