Having kids means being ready for anything. Which isn’t really possible because they’ll always surprise you with something. Example: earlier this week I was giving Toddler Harbat a bath and, as usual, she had a running commentary going. When she was just learning to talk I would’ve been ecstatic at hearing her run at the mouth but now I sometimes just want silence.
In the middle of her stream of consciousness monologue she tells me, “Babbo, we’re talkin’ about chicken soup.” As if we were returning from a commercial break and she’s giving the live audience an update. She has never eaten chicken soup. When I asked her a few seconds later what we were talking about, she told me, “mermaid pools”. You’ve really got to be buckled in tight when you converse with a toddler because the conversation is going to lurch suddenly in a new direction, come to a jarring stop, then race off sideways.
When I asked her this morning if we were “talkin’ bout chicken soup” she laughed and replied that, no, we were having breakfast. She must wonder where I come up with this stuff. My source material is close at hand, sweetie.