HIM: "You didn't tell me he was saying 'Daddy'."
ME: "He's not."
HIM: "Well when I picked them up at the sitter's house she told me he was saying 'dadadadada' all day.
ME: "Those are just noises, he doesn't mean them."
And so begins (some may say continues) the competition.
Man vs. Woman
Mano e Mujer
HIM vs. ME
Sometimes it gets downright mean.
ME: "You realize he's been saying 'MAMA' since he was four weeks old, right?
HIM: "Yes, but Annabel said Dada loooooong before she ever said mama."
ME: "Well watch this. ... When I look at him and say 'mama' he smiles.
HIM: "That's gas.
ME: "Oh, the expert speaks."
HIM: "Oh, don't kid yourself, you could give lessons, too."
And then he comes out with the knockout punch; The shot that proves the real hurt runs deeper than superficial jokes.
"You know, I've been telling people about your blog - giving them the address and everything - so I decided I'd probably better read it. ... I'm kind of the butt of all your jokes," he says, downtrodden.
How can a person catch their breath after that?
I'm never going to be able to be all flowery in love. I'm never going to be the person who drools out compliments in prose. It's just not me.
And, yet, the sad part for me is that the foibles and the inconsistencies, while admittedly mind-numbingly annoying at times, are also things that endear him to me most. And to me they represent what real love is. ... loving the flaws almost as much as the fortes.
In my mind, if you love only the good things about a person you are destined for disappointment. You have to admire some of the weirdness and not-so-lovable traits as well, otherwise you spend your life wishing the person was someone they aren't, and may never be.
And this reasoning turns upon itself. It proves, at least in some strange way, he's wishing I were someone else. Someone, perhaps, more able to say those lovey things in words. Things I most definitely think and feel, but can't actually articulate. All I can do is show how I feel through pictures:
But in words only this comes out:
"I'll admit it. Your son is saying 'da da'."