That's why we have MOUTHS!

Todd talks constantly. I mean…constantly. Take that literally, folks, because this child can talk the ear off of the best of them. I feel sorry for him, he must have my brain. It never shuts up, and if you didn’t talk (or write), your head would explode. So I let him babble, all day long, all of the time. One day, Hubby was hanging with us, and asked, “Does he ever shut up?” Nope. Never.

Tux tried to get him to be quiet the other day when they were playing a video game. “NO!” Toddy resisted. “That’s why we have mouf-es, Tux! So we can talk!” He’s got a point.

Before you get all up in arms about my not teaching the child to control himself, I do teach him that there are times and places that we must be quiet. He’s still working on it. But in general, what’s the trouble? He can talk to me all day if he wants. For one thing, it’s a natural thing to talk. It encourages him to express, explore, and ask questions. And for another thing…he’s interesting! I’m always amazed by what he talks about, and frankly, he’s pretty darn intelligent. I mean, how many three year olds do you know that extol the virtues of having a mouth???



He and his cousin, JJ, kept me in stitches during the week that we were visiting them. To hear them discuss life in their own language was a real treat. JJ was amazed that Todd still wore diapers, and Todd thought it was funny that JJ pooped in the toilet. They had many talks about that, explaining why to each other.

We went to see “Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs”, and JJ had a hard time sitting still. It was making Todd crazy, and he began to micromanage him. When JJ repeated the line, “Pop goes the weasel!” and laughed, Todd was indignant.

“That’s NOT funny! Stop laughing!” He insisted.

JJ’s eyes sparkled with the idea that he could irritate Todd. He repeated the phrase again and then laughed and laughed.

“It’s not a funny movie!” Todd yelled. (At this point, I reminded him that this was one of those places that we needed to be a bit quieter)

So they whispered, JJ taunted Todd with his laughter and “pop” comments, Todd getting more and more agitated that JJ thought that this was funny. They finally turned to me to end the argument: was this movie funny, or not?

Goodness.

We went to lunch at Taco Bell, and Todd and I were sharing a soda, while Sis and her three children shared another. Somehow, Todd got their cup and began to suck down as much soda as he could. (He is a soda freak…except that he calls it “Swee”)

JJ, who doesn’t get to drink as much soda as Todd does, was heartbroken when he finally got the cup back. He let out a wail that I’m sure struck two tables and shattered them asunder. “WE NEED A REFILL!” He howled. “HE did it!” He pointed at the offensive cousin.

While Sis was getting the cup refilled, JJ continued to berate Todd for his behavior, reminding him that this was a Parker cup, and Todd was clearly not a Parker. Sis gently reminded him that Todd was indeed a Parker, even if his last name was Cowell…because he had Parker blood in him.

Todd had a retort of his own. “It’s in my belly and YOU can’t get it!”

We’re not sure if he meant the Parker blood or the Swee, but either way, it was gone to JJ forever.

He comes by it naturally. I was –and continue to be – a talker. I can’t help myself. I guess that’s why it doesn’t bother me that he talks so much. I know the feeling.

When I was his age, my dad would offer to give me a quarter if I would be quiet for 5 minutes. It was quite a struggle, I must say. Especially when 4.5 minutes in, he would ask me a question. That’s just cheating, no matter how you look at it.

When I was just a little older than he is now, Mom took me on a bus ride to visit her parents during the summer. There was a young man who boarded the bus and sat next to a pretty young girl who was going off to college. She was politely listening to the arrogant young man, despite the fact that she obviously wished that she were anywhere else besides next to him. As the night wore on, Mom said that he continued to flirt and try to impress this poor girl, talking loudly even though everyone was now trying to sleep.

I took matters into my own hands.

“Hey, mister…” I offered. “I’ll give ya a quarter if you’ll be quiet for five minutes!”

My mother nearly died. She was sinking into her chair as the bus broke out into applause.

The young man was much quieter for the rest of the trip. Poor guy. All that mouth and no way to use it.