Howdy,
You know what you do not expect to hear from an active one who’ll be turning three at the end of the week?
“Can I have the keys to the car, Dad?”
Just kidding. Turning three years old.
Yesterday it was, “Dad, can I take a nap now? Dad, can I take a nap?”
Repeated like that because Titus seems to speak that way right now. Active and often. And in echo of himself, working through the canyons. So hard to think, to remember, that at his last birthday he wasn’t really putting words together much — not like now, however well he was or wasn’t uttering toddler talk.
Toddler talk: a language part child and part divine, as spoken word poet Anis Mojgani says when performing a live poem, Shake the Dust, in Mat Kearney’s song Heartbreak Dreamer from the album Just Kids.
…Shake the Dust…
This is for the two year olds who can not be understood because they speak half English and half God, shake the dust,
— Anis Mojgani
I’m pretty sure he said, “Dad, can I take a nap now?” But it sounds quicker than that, like it’s missing an a, at least, like, “Dad, can I take nap now? Dad, can I take nap?” And maybe that’s what he said; Ti’s been known to chatter in chunks, like the unlearned, uncouth coyotes in Hank the Cowdog.
(You gotta hear one in the audiobook version. The author, John R. Erickson, does an amazing job reading his Hank the Cowdog characters. Fun books if you have growing children — and if you like them, there’s like 67 books, so you’ll have hit a jackpot treasure in outdoor, ranch life, animal narrative. Stories told from man’s best friend. Can’t say that I’ve read them all, but the one’s we have read have been enjoyable: plus they remind me of when my family had a Hank the Cowdog stage when I was a kid myself. “Hank, Hank …!” — I’m telling you, the voice does a lot; and at least my family will know what I’m talking about. But either way, don’t worry, Hank’s Head of Ranch Security, he’ll take care of whatever the latest emergency is …)
Anyway, “Dad, can I take nap now?” — however many times it’s said — also sounds amazing. Can you imagine a young son (days before turning three, like I said) asking to go to his room to take his afternoon nap?
Yes, son, yes you may. Have a good rest, that’s what I say.
Ironically, yesterday, Ti didn’t nap.
That is, he didn’t fall asleep. He announced his own rest time with asking me out of the blue if he could take his nap, but then played in his room rather than sleep, which happens, though he usually tends to be pretty good about sleeping for naps. (Bedtime can be a different story, as some know … And it’s a story for another time, if you don’t.)
I suppose, when Ti should have been napping, that he probably played a little too much with a new toy from his early birthday party.
Come to think of it, now maybe that’s why he wanted to take a nap. That wily pup.
Love you, two-year-old Titus. And we’ll love you when you’re three, too. “Can I have the keys?” — and sixteen as well. Lord willing, and with His mercy … Wow, sixteen!
Three, first.
Three, first. Three, first …
“Can I take a nap now?”
— Dad
—Billy
Reading. Writing. Living.
Word Count: 54,865 / On Pace: 55,550 / Year’s Goal: 200,000
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