Thursday, October 27, 2011

Woodchuck Child

I took Cubby to the pediatrician in the Small City for a flu shot yesterday. The following conversation--if you can call it that--occurred in the car on the way out of the pediatrician's parking lot.

Cubby: Sha? Sha? Sha?

Me: What? Sha? *looking around* Oh. Squirrel. Yes, baby doll, there's a squirrel up there on that roof.

Cubby: Da? Da? Da?

Me: Dad? What about Daddy? Daddy's at home, working.

Cubby: Shoo? Shoo? Shoo?

Me: No, sweets. Daddy is not going to shoot that squirrel. They have laws against that in cities.

Talk about a product of his environment . . .

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

So cute..they know what they want to say and they can understand you but.... Never mind, one of these days he will find his words and then you'll be looking for something to clamp over his head to shut him up.

Phoo-D said...

Lol, wait until he gets to make a 1st grade class cookbook...!

tu mere said...

I'm impressed that you could figure out everything Cubby was saying. However, you are the mom who's around him 24-7. Makes a big difference. Love Cubby's thought sequence! He should fit in beautifully with all the males at Christmas.

Anonymous said...

All boy , that one.
I probably would have thought he meant shot (inoculation) by the sha? part. Beth