It rained all day today.
After I got the laundry under control (ish), I considered my restless boy. He was squawking and wearing a circle into the middle of the living room rug.
"We've gotta get out of here. Come on, Sprog-- let's make a break for it."
I bundled him into the carrier, grabbed an umbrella, and we went. Nothing fancy-- got some coffee at the DD, went to the bank, bought some new foundation at the drugstore.
We happened to be just outside this strange toy store/hobby shop/craft center amalgam when the rain really started coming down. Well, all right then! We went inside, browsed blocks and music kits and various Fisher Price paraphernalia.
I ended up buying an inflatable bouncy ball for him, and a hula hoop for me (I've been meaning to learn. Shut up.) All in all, I spent about six dollars. Money well-spent, I hope.
The rain was falling in a gentle patter against my umbrella, which cast a lavendar glow over our faces as I trudged up the hill to our apartment. Sprog was intrigued by the canopy. He'd alternate between hanging his head all the way back, to gaze up at the spokes, and popping upright to shoot me what looked an awful lot like conspiratorial grins.
I was in a great mood when I unlocked our apartment door. Fiona was there, waiting for us. Then she turned and stopped to sniff an invisible something on the floor, as cats do when they want to be right in your way, but still want to seem nonchalant.
I was feeling goofy. And I've found that when you spend a good portion of you day with little non-verbal creatures, you do what you can to keep yourself entertained.
"Oh, look, Sprog! Fee is greeting us by presenting her kitty butthole!
Hooray for the kitty butthole!
Hooray for the kitty butthole!
Hooray for the kitty butthole!
Hooray!"
Yeah. I know. But it made me laugh.
I put down our stuff, got Sprog out of the carrier and settled him on the changing table for a little freshening up.
"Hooray!"
"Wait. What? Was that you? Did you say Hooray?"
He looked at me with bright eyes and a grin from ear to ear.
"Did you say Hooray? Hooray!"
He giggled and blinked.
"Hooray!!!!! I am so proud of you! Hooray!!!!!"
Oh, it was magical and thrilling and so very strange! I don't know how to explain the strangeness. I guess it was almost like Fee suddenly saying something. Or, not that, exactly. Maybe like one of the Buckingham palace guards winking at you, and shouting, "Marmalade!"
Whh h h... did he just shout Marmalade??? Wait. Did anyone else hear that?
I haven't gotten him to say it since. And J tried, when he came home and I told him the story-- no dice.
But he did.
And what a wonderful first word! So full of celebration and fun.
Of course, in the same moment I rejoiced in my son's new skill, I realized I'm going to need to start monitoring what I say around him.
I'm so glad that of all the words I sang at him today, "Hooray" is the one he tried to say first.
Hooray!