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Sunday our family celebrated my nephew Aidan’s second birthday party. Part of the afternoon I played with the kids outside on Esther’s back patio (my sister, Aidan’s mom). Isabel and Aidan were outside, along with D’arcy and Julian, little friends around their age. The children decided to imagine a restaurant inside Isabel’s outdoor playhouse, and instructed me to come to the window and ask for some food.
Julian (almost 3 years old) pulled some grass and weeds up from inside the house, and placed it in my outstretched hands saying, “Hewe’s suh-getti.”
“Thanks! I love spaghetti!”, I replied.
Isabel (3.5 years old) rushed over and put a small stick in my cupped hands, on top of the spaghetti. “Hewe is some chicken.”
“That’s great, I love chicken!” I responded.
Aidan (2 years old today) was not to be left out of the action, so he ran over to me gripping a prized rock. Depositing the rock in my hands on top of the spaghetti and chicken, he beamed his huge smile at me and giggled.
After a pause, I asked, “Aidan, what is this?”
His smile turned puzzled as he tilted his head sideways to think, “A wock!” he finally exclaimed.
A rock. Of course it was a rock. What was I thinking?
It struck me that he’s at the age where he’s still learning appropriate names for things – colors, shapes, household items, and I was just testing his knowledge of backyard items. It is after this “real” name stage that the “play” name stage enters. Grass becomes spaghetti, blankets become superman capes, and rocks become, well, anything you want them to be! But for now, a rock is a rock, and he is so proud he knows its name.
After a few cooking episodes when my poor imaginary stomach was quite full, I changed up the game. Isabel answered my knock on the door, and I said, “Hello, I would like to buy some clothes. Do you have clothes here that I can buy?” I guess I expected her to be done with the restaurant by now, and decide to change the game with me. I thought too soon.
“No, we don’t have any cwoes hewe. But dey have cwoes over dere, awound duh coh-no on Mainwand.” (Mainland is a street very close to their home that they probably take out of their neighborhood to get anywhere) Suppressing a giggle, I said, “Oh, okay, thank you,” and shut the door. Walking to a different section of the backyard, I pretended to be looking at clothes on a rack. Suddenly Isabel was at my side,
“No, dat is not wewe duh cwoes aw. You have to go on Mainwand, awound duh coh-no. Hewe, I wiw show you.” And with that, she dashed toward the far side of the backyard, around the corner of the house, to the side of the house where the fence separated us from the driveway. “Hewe you go!” she announced, and ran off, leaving me on the far side of the house no longer able to keep my giggles to myself.