Breakfast with The Boy

Bananas now have a name: “Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba”. I tried to correct him this morning (“It’s pronounced ba-NA-na”), only to be corrected (“BA BA BA BA BA!”)

The box of cereal, however, is still called “Aaaaaaaa”. And beverages are still called “Eh”. Yogurt doesn’t have a name, though. [shrugs] Is it what it is.

Breakfast was interesting this morning. After securing him in his high chair, I offered a sippy cup, which was promptly refused. “AAAAAAAAAA!” he screamed. I started peeling a banana, and his face lit up, and he began saying, “Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba!” Mind you, there’s no correcting him – he knows what it’s called.

After I broke apart the banana (excuse me – the ba-ba-ba-ba-ba) for him, I turned my attention to stirring his yogurt. I was about to offer some yogurt to him when I realized he was quickly shoving pieces of banana into his mouth as though it could be taken from him at any moment. (This would be more disturbing if I didn’t have a tendency to eat like that every once in a while, myself.) So, what did I do? That’s right – I took the banana away from him. And he screamed. “BA-BA-BA-BA-BAAAAAAAAAA!”

Once I got yogurt into his mouth, of course, the banana was forgotten.

His teachers at school told me this morning that they’ve never seen a child so happy to see food, and yet he’s very good about letting them know when he’s had enough.

I only hope he has a fast metabolism his whole life.


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