He can say “guacamole” and “sushi” and “calculator” (well, they don’t sound EXACTLY like that) and he knows what they are. He can barely see over the steering wheel, even when he kneels on the seat, but he loves to play with the “round round” (steering wheel) and push all the buttons and levers on the dashboard. He likes to eat with one chopstick, which he uses like a spear.
My grandson is just about 22 months old, and I’m posting this from Boston, where we’ve just finished de-puking the back seat of my car — where he managed to throw up three times during our house-hunting journey to and from Agawam, MA. My daughter’s patience with him is limitless, and he responds by being damned good company. Despite the smelly trip, I feel like I’m on a vacation. No mother to mother. I’m just playing chauffer, hanging out and enjoying the adventure. After all, he didn’t puke all over me!
I swear, he learns a new word every other minute, and he remembers everthing. He asks if he can “touch” or “hold” before he grabs onto any object that’s caught his attention. When he calls me “Glammy” and takes my hand to walk and talk me around his world, I think I could even deal with his puke.
Of course, you know what his new favorite word is.