Owlet is now two and a bit. She, for some unknown reason, has cultivated some odd geek tendencies.
As all toddlers love Raffi for an unfathomable reason, she is of course addicted, addicted to "Baby Beluga". Needs to hear it all the time, like a crackhead needs to hear the sound of a butane lighter on a broken lightbulb. I guess there are far too many syllables in Beluga, so she ends up saying "Baby Yoda", which is, frankly, awesome. What makes it more awesome is that we can say "You want baby yoda? more baby yoda?" and she knows exactly what we're talking about. (Last night, "Attack of the Clones" was on, and she was, disconcertedly, scared of Yoda. How can anyone be scared of a small green alien who talks in broken english?)
Pie has a very strong attachment to geek culture, and I don't know why that is. Maybe because pie is universally awesome. I call this the 'Bacon Effect', anything naturally awesome will become a 'geek thing' (see also, Tron).
So one day we go to get some pie. I assume she doesnt' really know or care why we are strapping her into the carseat, just that she can constantly say our names in a querolous tone, as if a lead-in to a pithy and enlightening question (Dadda?). Of course, she has a vocabulary of about 15 words (not counting sounds that animals and various modes of transportation make, I'd say it's about 4), this never happens. Funnily, she's completed mastered the tone of a question, so when she says "Dada", about 30% of the time I'm completely fooled into thinking she'll follow up after I say, "Yes?". Anyways, pie. We go get pie at this one supermarket that has the mostest bestest pie in town. We come back home. Owlet is put down for the night. She wakes up in the middle of the night and has a little chat with Mrs. Owl, it goes something like this:
"Me eat."
"You're hungry?"
"Me eat."
"What do you want to eat?"
Thoughtful repose, a real deep introspection into the reasons for existence and whatnot.
"Me eat pie."
The fact that she connected all the dots and knew, with absolute certainty, that we had pie, blew us away. Or maybe she made a lucky guess. Or, I dunno, maybe we really don't expect a whole lot from our toddler. Or maybe pie is so awesome it accelerates brain growth. That seems most feasible.
As all toddlers love Raffi for an unfathomable reason, she is of course addicted, addicted to "Baby Beluga". Needs to hear it all the time, like a crackhead needs to hear the sound of a butane lighter on a broken lightbulb. I guess there are far too many syllables in Beluga, so she ends up saying "Baby Yoda", which is, frankly, awesome. What makes it more awesome is that we can say "You want baby yoda? more baby yoda?" and she knows exactly what we're talking about. (Last night, "Attack of the Clones" was on, and she was, disconcertedly, scared of Yoda. How can anyone be scared of a small green alien who talks in broken english?)
Pie has a very strong attachment to geek culture, and I don't know why that is. Maybe because pie is universally awesome. I call this the 'Bacon Effect', anything naturally awesome will become a 'geek thing' (see also, Tron).
So one day we go to get some pie. I assume she doesnt' really know or care why we are strapping her into the carseat, just that she can constantly say our names in a querolous tone, as if a lead-in to a pithy and enlightening question (Dadda?). Of course, she has a vocabulary of about 15 words (not counting sounds that animals and various modes of transportation make, I'd say it's about 4), this never happens. Funnily, she's completed mastered the tone of a question, so when she says "Dada", about 30% of the time I'm completely fooled into thinking she'll follow up after I say, "Yes?". Anyways, pie. We go get pie at this one supermarket that has the mostest bestest pie in town. We come back home. Owlet is put down for the night. She wakes up in the middle of the night and has a little chat with Mrs. Owl, it goes something like this:
"Me eat."
"You're hungry
"Me eat."
"What do you want to eat?"
Thoughtful repose, a real deep introspection into the reasons for existence and whatnot.
"Me eat pie."
The fact that she connected all the dots and knew, with absolute certainty, that we had pie, blew us away. Or maybe she made a lucky guess. Or, I dunno, maybe we really don't expect a whole lot from our toddler. Or maybe pie is so awesome it accelerates brain growth. That seems most feasible.
Comments
1) Owlet rocks
2) You need to tell me where this pie comes from. Mrs. Hawk is a pie junkie.
Pretty soon she'll be able to bring disparate and obscure book, movie, and lyrics quotes to bear on real-life situations.
They'll get more and more abstract.
And I'll be proud.
This phase prob won't last.