Honk

A is going through a growth spurt which means many things but one thing specifically is that she is sleeping more. In turn, G and I have been catching up on toddler stuff. He's been a patient lad and has given his parents over to the world that is bringing up a baby but now I'm happy to say he is getting his undivideds more than infrequently too.

One unusual toddler quirk I've noticed is that recently G has been saying "Honk" whenever he wants your attention. Again, he says honk which is so much stranger than him making the goose sound. While this is wildly obnoxious when he is interrupting an adult conversation, it really does have a way of endearing the child to whom he has interrupted. Oddly enough, The Honk makes things forgivable.

So today, as we were reading under a tent of Thomas the Train sheets, his belly grumbles. He looks at me, makes an "Oh" face and smiles. I smile back and ask the obvious, "Was that your belly?" To this he replies, "Mommy. It was my honk. My honk is hungry and it would like two sam-wiches. It will eat a peanut butter and jelly and a gwilled cheese."

"It was your honk?" I ask through large puffs of laughter.

"Mommy," Mr. Serious as a Heart Attack admonishes, "Don't laugh like dat. It was my honk. My honk is hungry. Don't laugh. Now you say it."

"Say what?" I ask him with strangulating giggles bubbling over one another in my throat.

"No," he inside-voice yells, "You don't laugh. You say dat my honk is hungry."

And so it went until finally I mustered enough will power to make it through that exact sentence without laughing irreverently.

Seriously, you try it without laughing. Say that your honk is hungry. See? Not just me.

By the way, his honk really was very hungry. Poor thing ate one PB & J, chicken soup, crackers, and some of mine. These honks don't mess around in the kitchen. When they growl, you say how many sam-wiches.