Imaginary Conversations #2: Two Steps Forward
Baby Girl (quietly, on the rug): Nrgh . . . nrgh . . . nrgh . . .
Baby Boy: Aha, well played, my worthy opponent-but let's see what you think of this! Pbleh!
Me: What the-okay, first, can we stop treating lunch as single combat? Please? You open your mouth for the oatmeal, but then you wrestle with me, and sooner or later I'm going to splash oatmeal in your eyebrows. Secondly, how on earth did you manage to store the last four spoonfuls in your cheeks? Are you part chipmunk?
Baby Girl: Nrgh . . . nrgh . . . nrgh . . .
Baby Boy: Heheheh, I hath slain the jabberwock! It looked remarkably like a spoon. And for some reason, there's no more oatmeal in my mouth. Thor demands more oatmeal!
Me: Okay, okay . . .
Baby Girl: Nrgh . . . nrgh . . . MOMMMMMMEEEEEE!!!
Me: What? What is it? Oh my gosh, you're scooting backwards on your tummy! Good job!
Baby Girl: My horsie is receding into the distance!!
Me: Aaaand, you weren't trying to go backwards, were you?
Baby Girl: All my toys are receding into the distance! THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE is rushing away from me at relativistic speeds and everything will end in the Big Rip and I WANT MY MOMMY!!!
Me: Shhhh, shhhh, it's okay. It's okay, I promise. Here's your horsie, right here,
Baby Girl: *sniffle* I couldn't get out of reverse! This thing steers like an early Resident Evil game! Why doesn't it work?!
Me: It's okay, it's okay. It's all going to be okay. I've got you, sweetheart.
Baby Girl: *hugs* I've got you, mommy.
Baby Boy: I've got a mouthful of oatmeal! Wanna see?
tl;dr: Why, yes, I do intend to pass on my utter astronomical geekery to the next generation. How could you tell?
Baby Boy: Aha, well played, my worthy opponent-but let's see what you think of this! Pbleh!
Me: What the-okay, first, can we stop treating lunch as single combat? Please? You open your mouth for the oatmeal, but then you wrestle with me, and sooner or later I'm going to splash oatmeal in your eyebrows. Secondly, how on earth did you manage to store the last four spoonfuls in your cheeks? Are you part chipmunk?
Baby Girl: Nrgh . . . nrgh . . . nrgh . . .
Baby Boy: Heheheh, I hath slain the jabberwock! It looked remarkably like a spoon. And for some reason, there's no more oatmeal in my mouth. Thor demands more oatmeal!
Me: Okay, okay . . .
Baby Girl: Nrgh . . . nrgh . . . MOMMMMMMEEEEEE!!!
Me: What? What is it? Oh my gosh, you're scooting backwards on your tummy! Good job!
Baby Girl: My horsie is receding into the distance!!
Me: Aaaand, you weren't trying to go backwards, were you?
Baby Girl: All my toys are receding into the distance! THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE is rushing away from me at relativistic speeds and everything will end in the Big Rip and I WANT MY MOMMY!!!
Me: Shhhh, shhhh, it's okay. It's okay, I promise. Here's your horsie, right here,
Baby Girl: *sniffle* I couldn't get out of reverse! This thing steers like an early Resident Evil game! Why doesn't it work?!
Me: It's okay, it's okay. It's all going to be okay. I've got you, sweetheart.
Baby Girl: *hugs* I've got you, mommy.
Baby Boy: I've got a mouthful of oatmeal! Wanna see?
tl;dr: Why, yes, I do intend to pass on my utter astronomical geekery to the next generation. How could you tell?