Kees is a very chatty two-year-old. He talks himself to sleep, he talks to himself in the morning, usually just rattling off all the people he knows: Mommy, Daddy, Sachy, Vayvay (Memere), Gedo, Jake, Élise, Minou minou (his stuffed sheep). Kees is functionally bilingual, as he translates almost everything he says, for example, if his food is hot, he will say “Chaud! Hot!” If he wants to go to the river to look for jet boats, he says “Boat! Bateau!” He speaks in minimal 3-word phrases, often with a verb and a predicate. Or a verb and a subject. Or a subject and a sound effect: “Truck CWASHSHSHS!” I also am starting to see the cleverness behind his babble, and have realized that he is not my innocent baby anymore; he has a brain, and is very adept at using it for humour.
The other day, the boys were playing in the garage, Sacha on his bike, Kees pushing his dump trucks around (and crashing them into me and Sacha). Suddenly, Sacha looked up and pointed: “Oh NO! A mosquito!”
Kees looked up with hope: “Gedo? Gedo?”
“No Kees, not Gedo. Mosquito. Mosquito,” I repeated, laughing to myself at his interpretation of the word.
“Miss-Gedo?” Kees said with a giggle, while Sacha and I howled with laughter at Kees’s verbal antics. Seeing that we were amused, Kees continued:
“Miss-Gedo! Miss-Vayvay! Miss-Vayvay!”
Oh, that Kees-man. A play on words and he doesn’t even know it yet.