William: "Mom, what is dat gwumbwing sound?"
Mom: Sigh. "Um, that is us driving over a bumpy part in the road."
William: "No, what is dat GWUMBWING?"
Mom: "I just told you."
William: "No, what is dat gwum-- sou--, what does SOUND mean?"
Mom: "William, I am going to need you to stop talking until we get to the grocery store."
William: "K."
This is unbelievably, cross my heart, EXACTLY the type of conversation William and I engage in at least ten times per day. You might be thinking that I am shafting him on some good old conversational training, or that I am stifling his adventurous spirit, or that I don't appreciate the adorable curiosity of a three year old. You might be right.
Nonetheless, continuing on these threads is mutually assured destruction. Eventually William will still not have his question answered, (largely because the question mutates with the speed of light), and I will be raising my voice saying something like, "Well then you can take a NAP for all I care."
Which is exactly what happened later on today.
From 10:30-11:30 I was pretty sluggish, being as we completed a to-do list six items long from 7:15 to 10:15. From about 11 to 11:30 William asked me every five minutes to make him lunch. Finally I hopped up off the couch and said cheerfully, (yes, cheerfully, I specifically remember being cheerful):
"Ok, bud, what do you want for lunch?"
"Cheese and cwackus."
"Here is your cheese, crackers, and a banana."
"Can I have juice mommy?"
"Hold on, I need to make my lunch and Sam's lunch too."
"Can I have juice mommy?"
"Just a second bud"
"Can I have juice mommy?"
"William! It is NOT all about YOU!"
I give him the juice. He takes one bite of cheese.
"I am finished wif my lunch"
It does not behoove me to tell you how I responded. Suffice it to say, he ended up taking a nap. Early.
See, I know that we need to learn how to communicate with one another. I know that a lot of our conversations are priceless. Sometimes, though, it's better to cut them off at the pass.
I really like it when he prays. It helps that God is getting his earful too, and it gives me insight into my little boy. For the last three nights he has been praying for his Aunt Maria, because she's having a rough week at college. He also thanks God for me. Every single night.
The wrap-up, I suppose, is this: Conversation with a three year old is exhausting, but there are gems in there that are worth the ride.
