Monday, June 12, 2006


Banana Love Monkey

This weekend we went to a carnival, and The Boy won a stuffed monkey-and-banana playing one of the games. He immediately named it Banana Love Monkey. There aren’t many times in life when you get to use a phrase as immediately winning as Banana Love Monkey, so I say, when the opportunity comes along, take it.

He has another stuffed monkey, named Cheeky Monkey, that he keeps in his room. Last night, as he got ready for bed, he introduced Cheeky Monkey to Banana Love Monkey, then carefully arranged them on either side of him under his sheet. A few minutes after I finished reading to the whole menagerie and kissed TB goodnight, I walked past his room and saw TB reading a book to Cheeky Monk and Banana Love Monkey. I’ll be able to embarrass the daylights out of him with this story when he’s 13, but I think it’s sweet.

The other great linguistic breakthrough this weekend belongs to The Girl. She spoke her first sentences! “Hello, Mama,” which was followed shortly by “Hello, Daddoo.” (It’s always Daddoo, rather than Dada, Daddy, or Dad. I’ll take it.) She still doesn’t have a name for The Boy. I suspect she thinks of him as a force of nature, rather than a person who can be reduced to a name. Her favorite word is “No,” which is right on schedule for the terrible twos next month.

The Wife took The Boy to see Cars on Saturday night (she reports that he was quite gallant), so The Girl and I were on our own. I took her to the park, where another Dad was supervising his three-year-old son, whom I’ll call Sparky. Sparky took an immediate shine to The Girl, and started following her around as she climbed on the jungle gym/slide thing. The Girl was unimpressed by Sparky, but taken with his Dad. She just stared at the Dad, quite unabashedly, flashing those big baby browns at him and smiling. The Dad even commented on it at one point. Guys her age are so immature.

These moments probably don’t mean much to anyone who wasn’t there. It’s just that I know it won’t always be this easy, and I just want to capture it while I can.

Back to the salt mines...

Your son will hit college, and "Banana Love Monkey" will become his nickname among the guys in his fraternity. And it will be viewed as a compliment.

Just you wait.
My daughter was outed (with her permission) to her floormates at Pitt as "Baby Monkey Head." It didn't seem to damage her credibility.

By the way, I'm here by way of Chris Clarke's blog, one step removed. The two of you were guest bloggers for a third, but I'm disremembering who. In any case, I enjoy your posts. I teach in a two-year college for disabled students within a larger university, and your perspective is interesting.
I love your stories about the Boy and the Girl!
These stories brought a smile to my face on a day that I need something to smile about. Thanks. :)
Reminiscent of Newsradio's fondness for the phrase, "Super karate monkey death car." Or "donkey donkey donkey donkey donkey"
How cute! :) Thanks for sharing.
Besotted with stories of lovely children.
May they never grow up to be faculty.
Write down these memories and hold on to them. You may need to reread them at 2a.m. one morning while waiting for them to come home. It takes some perspective to still see the baby that was in a 6 foot tall kiddo.
Ellen is right. I have to stop and remember those "aww" moments when one of my four does something totally 'teenagestupid'. (it doesn't help when it's the 26 year old doing something 'teenagestupid')
I'm a little behind in my reading, but I had to comment on this one because I was having a crappy day and this whole post made me smile...
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