I recently came across these old notes I made almost 6 years ago while driving my youngest from one activity to another. She was five at the time and could talk a non-stop stream of consciousness from the back seat. I swear I took this down verbatim using one hand and without taking my eyes from the road:
My daughter starts making choking noises as if she’s sick. “Err. Ugh. I’m sick. Hyuh. Sick. I sound like I’m actually…What are you doing?”
In fact, I had pulled this notepad into my lap to write down what she was saying. My daughter tends to sit in the seat right behind me as I drive and sprints into her monologue as soon as the car door closes. I started writing her words down about 20 minutes after she began, so unfortunately this misses the lion’s share of what was said, but will give you a taste.
“My hands are not as big as my face. I mean, one hand isn’t, but both hands are if I put both hands on my face. Slug bug, back there. Slug Bug!”
She tries to lean forward in her seat to slug my shoulder but the seat belt gives no play and she starts making straining noises. “I’m stuck. Uugh. Aagh. Daddy, I’m stuck. Now I can’t do slug bug. Ooooh, McDonald’s! Toys R’ Us!”
I saw a yellow car passing and called out, “Banana!”
“We’re playing banana now? No, I’m playing blueberry. No, I’m playing snowball. I already got two snowballs. Snowball. Snowball. Snowball. Snowball. Aaagh, I’m still stuck. This thing is choking me. Snowball. Snowball. Snowball. Now I’ve got nineteen, or maybe 26. Yeah. Oh! Snowball on the front and snowball on the side. Can I do just one thing to the buckle?”
More choking noises.
“I can’t…I can’t…ack…ah…this hurts. I can’t move a muscle.” Here she switched back to straining noises. “Hnngh. And what I like about mommy’s [car] is that it doesn’t keep you back here so you can’t reach for something.
“Dad, we should try going to the tippity top of that mountain. Because the rocks, they can help you climb because they’re hard and they’re stuck to the mountain which is also a big rock. And hot lava is a rock that went on fire and it melted…because they make a big hole where all the rocks get heated because they put hot water in or something hot and it melts into a big puddle of hot lava inside of the mountain.”
For a while, she goes quiet and I wonder where her mind is wandering. In the rearview mirror I can see her lips are still moving as she looks out the window at all the images flashing by.
Do you have a good story about children or from your own childhood? If so, please share by clicking on the “comments” button at the top of the post.