Growing up like a speeding freight train
Yesterday Col and Rose were painting, which always seems like a good idea because it’s something they can do by themselves, so I set them up and then go do something totally frivolous like make dinner or fold laundry. After five minutes I usually glance over towards the kitchen table and notice that Col is less painting than trying to see how much paint is required to turn his white paper into a blackish pulp. And Rose is having a marvelous time adorning her arms with her orange-dipped paintbrush, preparing for Woodstock II for Juniors.
I must have done my check at the three minute mark this time because all was well at the art table except Col asking Rose for the yellow paint. This asking was not a problem in itself; it was that for the first time ever, Col referred to that warm, cheerful color as “yellow” rather than the sweetly incorrect, mis-pronunced “lellow,” which has rolled off his tongue for over two years. And I could have kicked myself for all the times I might have annoyingly enunciated that color’s name like a smug ESL teacher with something to prove: oh, you’d like the yyyyyelll-ow pen Col?
And then today he said the word website. We’ve just bought him a bag of razors, a briefcase and a box of condoms.
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Rachel, that’s hilarious — Leo pronounces it the exact same way (yogurt is “lowgurt”) and I’ve even said to my husband how I’ll be a little sad when he starts pronouncing it correctly.
Thanks Rachel, both for the smiles and the wisdom—I must stop correcting and enunication so much. They grow up too quickly. Soon I will miss Shayden’s calling himself Naynen :(