It's been a month since the boys became full-time roommates in the Bert Sanctuary, and I had prepared myself for the worst. We tried putting TwoBert in a Pack-n-Play during Estivus Peripatetica, and he wouldn't have any of it. I was all set to write a post titled "Cribulations" and prattle on about tantrums and mayhem and sippy cups being scraped along the prison bars. But frankly, the transition hasn't been all that cribulating. TwoBert wakes up every so often, but he usually falls back off to sleep rather easily.
Robert likes to fall off, too -- off of his new twin bed. One night he landed with a thud that woke up the whole house -- except him. More power to him, I say. If there's a skill any child should cultivate, it's the ability to sleep through a midnight face-plant.
There is, however, the matter of the current (and hopefully unrelated) hitch in Robert's speech patterns. Every once in a while Robert launches in with a grandiose proclamation, but he's struck with such aphasia that he can't finish his sentence. He's worked so hard to land our attention that he's genuinely taken aback when he finally succeeds.
Now, I'm not one to lay blame on somebody who can't finish a sentence. I do it all the time. But I'm 41 going on 90, and in my day I was something of a weed enthusiast. What's his excuse?
It's also important to note that conversations like the one below usually occur when I'm late for something, or I really have to take a leak, or some other situation when it's really not in my best interest to hang around and wait for the last, ornery syllable to fall.
Robert: I want to go to... uh...
Me: Where?
Robert: Um... I want to go to... uh...
Me: Where would you like to go?
Robert: I want... uh... to go... uh... tooooooo...
At this point, I want very damn desperately to help him fill in his blanks. But I know I'll come off like I'm hectoring him, which can't be a good thing. So to help me bite my tongue, I wander off into my own Mental MadLibs:
Robert: I want to go... tooo...
Me: [The coffee shop? The hardware store? Tony 'n' Tina's Wedding?]
Robert: I want to... go... to...
Me: [Extremes? Great lengths? The dogs? The video tape? The bathroom?]
Robert: I want... to... uh...
Me: [go... to...]
Robert: go... to...
Me: [uh... ]
Robert: uh...
Me: [Lake Michigan? Suriname? The United Arab Emirates? What, child? WHAT?]
Robert: I forget.
Oyf. My kingdom for a direct object.
