AJ-isms

The little guy has a rapidly increasing verbal repertoire these days. At least once a week he will bust out with something adorable and Beth and I will look at each other, unsure exactly when or where he picked up the particular word or phrase in question. Here are a few recent good ones:

* After breakfast out on Sunday morning he blurted out an unprompted, excited, "I love pancakes!" This was at least fitting, because he had just consumed some. But it was after we had left the restaurant, as we were strolling down the street. Naturally, we throw "love" around a lot at home, but this one came from the kid hesitant to give his own Mimi a hug and a kiss when she drops by. Granted, she smells like cigarettes so he has his reasons. Anyway...

* I like playing on the floor with him, but when my back is flaring up I sometimes really just need to sit in a comfortable chair, and I explain that to him. This factored in the last time he climbed up onto the coffee table in the living room. He is expressly forbidden from doing this, and he knows it all too well. I caught him in the act and casually asked him if he was supposed to be sitting on the table. He flashed a trademark grin, one that clearly reads "Of course I'm not, dad, but I'm not going to cop to that to see how long I can pull this off." He held the smirk for a while and I asked him to climb down. "Daddy," he replied, "better for back." Nice try, kid. But I've seen you in action and I'm fairly certain your spine is as elastic as a gummy worm.

* He has a brand new sort of verbal game that is an entity unto itself called "Is that a Cheeto?" There is absolutely no way the actual cuteness of this will translate to this medium, but I will try to explain it. He simply picks up, points to, or acknowledges any item that is, in fact, not a Cheeto. Then he asks the question, with a smile on his face and a few extra decibels of volume. He knows full well what is a Cheeto and what isn't, but the idea of asking if something is a Cheeto when it clearly is not is hilarious to him. We can answer, but he will often do it himself, with a tone that indicates that we are jackasses for wondering if, in fact, the item was a Cheeto after all. One occurrence usually leads to another, and often a string of them, with different nouns substituted at will. An exchange goes something like this:

(AJ picks up a Thomas the Tank Engine train)
"Is that a Cheeto?"
(I smile and remain silent)
AJ: "Nooooo...it's a train!"
(AJ points at the dog)
"Is that a Cheeto?"
Me: "No."
AJ: "Nooooooo...that's Chewie!"

The best version came once when we were reading his favorite trucks board book. On nearly every page, he swapped in nouns of his own choosing, using the Cheeto questioning method.

AJ, referring to a cement mixer: "Is it mixing...potties? No, it's mixing...daddies! No, it's mixing...toilets!" Warrants mentioning that we were, in fact, in the bathroom at the time. But this went on for page after page, and it was absolutely comical. No matter how frustrating he occasionally gets, he is always good for a daily laugh, often at the most unexpected time, and I absolutely adore that about him.