Baby Talking Adults

Before Max was born I made a slew of promises to myself and my wife about the parents we would be.  Like all parents before children I was a damn idiot.  You will have the child that melts down at the grocery store and you will be the parent that deals with it in a way a childless couple finds atrocious.  “When we have kids we’ll treat our children with respect and teach them how to behave in public through mutual understanding!”  Sure you will!  Have fun teaching cats to tap dance while you’re at it.  One of my promises was that I wouldn’t talk to my son like a baby and I would never call my wife “Mommy” when we were alone.  Wrong.

While I don’t do the shmoopy-poopy talk with Max I certainly go up a few octaves and talk differently with him.  Something about all that cuteness just pulls it out of you like some alien language that has been laying dormant in your brain for your entire life.  However the worst crime is how my wife and I talk to each other now:

Me: “Once Max is asleep…wanna watch a movie?”

Kate: “Ugh.  Mommy is pretty tired.”

Me:  “Dada is too.  Wanna go night night?”

Kate:  “Night night…”

Me:  “Yeah…lets go night night.”

What the heck is that crap?!!!  (A.) When did I become “Dada” and not Ryan…and (B.) when did I start referring to this new name in the third person?  We’re gonna turn Max into a tiny Bob Dole.  “Bob Dole wants to go night night.  Bob Dole is ti ti.  Bob Dole.  Bob Doooooole!!!”  My name is Ryan.  My wife’s name is Kate.  My name is Ryan.  My wife’s name is Kate.  My name is…

Max:  “Dada?”

Me:  “Hey buddy!  Yeah!  Its Dada!”

Max:  “Wuv woo.”

Me:  “Love you too buddy.”

Max:  “Dada?”

Me:  “Yeah Max?”

Max:  “Night night…”

Me:  “Okay, lets go upstairs for splash splash, a few books, and night night…”

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2 thoughts on “Baby Talking Adults

  1. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Having children has had no on impact on your idiocy that I can see.
    Grinning,
    Frank

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