Seven Red

babygirl talks. A lot. She says little words here and there like cay-cake (cake), baby-do (her doll), tshu (shoe), kib (crib), and bath (bath). She has little multi-word expressions like “close door,” “dinner time,” “bath time,” “tshu on,” “all done,” etc., etc. And I’ll be damned if she doesn’t seem to understand just about everything we say. We even had the dreaded moment when she mimicked a random goddammit (gammy-et).Ooops. But this morning she belted out her first full communicative, grammatically correct sentence. Sure, when she was a little older than a year, she used to say “Where da ball?” But that seemed purely imitative. She didn’t really want to know where the ball was; she was copying what you’re supposed to say when the ball goes under the couch.

But this. This sentence was motivated and specific. She had closed the door to our bedroom, so she was stuck inside. I was still in bed. She knocked a few times, because she knows knocking thanks to Mr. Brown, who can, among other things, sound like a cow, thunder, a bee, a clock, the rain (if you believe the rain sounds like dibble dibble dibble dop) and, well, the sound of a hand on a door, as in “knock knock.” So she knocked, like Mr. Brown. Nothing. No response. She whined a few times. I pretended to sleep through it. And then:

Mommy! Mommy! Open the door!

I shot up in bed. What’d you say? “The door,” she pointed. I’m thinking you could probably do worse for first sentences. Of course, as you probably suspected, this whole post is just an excuse to show you more cute pictures of the babygirl, so I’ll drop the subterfuge and get right to it.

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