Hanging out with a todder is like playing a never-ending game of Balderdash, except that you never get a turn. Bub simply comes up with all the nonsense and leaves me to guess at the definitions. Example:
Bub: (in the middle of lunch) Boo-hoo, why doesn’t anybody listen to me?
Me: Ohhhh, are you quoting Reginald von Hooby Dooby from Mo Willems Edwina the Dinosaur Who Was Extinct?
Sometimes they come easy. Sometimes they take longer to decipher, which makes for lively conversations and Freud-worthy word associations, as last night. I’m changing his diaper, he’s not being super-cooperative, and I’m a little too tired to sing my “Stop Squeezing Your Cheeks, Kid” ditty.
Me: Come on, Bub, just let me in there, please.
Bub: Ehhhhhh. No wipe, no wipe!
Me: I’ll be gentle, let’s just get this over with.
Bub: No wipe, no wipe!
Me: Dude, I don’t want you to itch all night. Let’s bust this out real quick.
Bub: One dollar donation.
Me: Excuse me?
Bub: One dollar donation, Daddy.
Me: I heard you, I just don’t have any cash…
Me: Well, technically, a donation is optional, Bub. I don’t have to…
Bub: ONE DOLLAR DONATION, DADDY!!!
Me: Ohhhhh. Wait, are you thinking about story time? And the suggested one dollar donation?
[wipe wipe wipey wipe wipe] Me: Yeah, did Mommy give you a dollar for Ms. Linda?
Me: Wow, nice work, Bub. Money well spent.