Just a few months ago Drew could barely squeak out an entire sentence.
But as we parents learn all too quickly, the sleep stops, the ravenous eating begins, and in between the rabid monkey style tantrums, the kid starts speaking in paragraphs.
All the time.
And really, the chatter itself, though incessant, is rather entertaining.
Like the conversations and then arguments about the size of his turds with his older sister, or the reciprocal questions he asks me like "What's your favewit cuh-wer, mommy?"
And who can complain about hearing "I missed you, Mommy" (you know, after the one precious daily hiatus called "naptime").
But lately he's taken a turn for the worse. And I don't mean cursing, or backtalking, or singing the same God damn song over and over again "We represent, the Lollipop Gear, the Lollipop Gear NO MOMMY IT'S NOT GUILD THAT'S SILLY WHAT'S A GUILD?"
(okay maybe I do mean it dear God make it stop)
I mean the rhyming. The spontaneous rhyme fests that sound like a poor white boy stumbling along in some rap competition.
"Could you please use your napkin, Drew?"
"NAPKIN, FLAPKIN, HATKIN, BAPKIN. Bwwwwaahahahahahaahahaha!" *snorfle, chuckle, gag, snort*
Seriously, just add a few "yos," some "hos," and some groovin' back beats, and you've got a top 40 rap song.
WORD to yo mothah.
He rips apart pet names like nobody's business, which generally ends up getting him in trouble because no matter what he started with, he ends up with poop.
"Hey Drewboo [his nickname], come here please!"
"Hey POOPOO! STINKY POOPOO!"
It's even better when company's over, mostly because you don't exactly know which word will suddenly strike his inner poet.
"Seriously, that toaster is a piece of junk!"
"PUNK! You're a punky punky junky monkey!"
As a writer and once poet myself, with such works as "Happiness Grove" (unpublished, 1983) - you know, "where all the traits of love have been wove...," I appreciate his creativity.
And any kid who can somehow go from the word "blue" to the word "cooter" (several times actually, at the grocery store, really loudly), has my utmost respect.
This kid's going somewhere. I just know it.