My child is a space case. She can stare off into space and I swear it takes a voice above 80 dBs to bring her back to Earth. In the car, I am constantly checking the child safety mirror to make sure she's even in the backseat.
Of course, there are the times she.just.won't.shut.up.
Today was both.
The morning commute started off with her brain well past Pluto. I yelled her name a couple of times. When she finally snapped out of it, she looked at me and said "What?"
She's practicing to be a teenager, I know it.
I then regretted snapping the child out of her self-induced hypnosis. My gosh. She just kept yapping about anything and everything.
Then there is the "point out everything we see and let the world know what it is" thingy. With each thing she saw, she would announce her discovery. My job was to acknowledge.
"Mommy, there's a slhrfnwealewio." I just say "Really?!" when I can't understand her. It saves her the trouble of her repeating since I probably won't understand her the second time anyway.
"Mommy, that's a square." That's any random square object.
"Is that a square there, Dink?"
"Nooooooo. That is a cloud machine." That can be any random smokestack or Limerick nuclear power plant.
"Mommy, there's a tiger." Tiger Schilman Karate. We pass it every morning. She says that and I growl. She gets a giggle out of it.
"Mommy, there's a fish." That would be the Bonefish Grill. And it's not just a fish, but a dead fish. Sorry, folks, but anyplace that uses a fish skeleton as it's mascot won't see me in their dining room.
"Mommy, a bird. I have to shoot it!"
"You have to shoot it, sweetie?"
"Yeah! Shoo! Shoo!"
Ohhhh, shoo the bird! For moment I pictured my child putting a feathered being in crosshairs.
"Mommy, it's Bob the Builder!" Part of the road we travel is being widened. When we drive through the construction zone, Dinks shouts out Bob the Builder at the glimpse of all construction vehicles. It's about a seven mile stretch. That's a lot of shout outs.
This morning, I decided to play along in a sing-song loudish voice.
"Mommy, it's Bob the Builder!"
"You're right, Dink! It is! Dink, can we build it?!"
What? That's not the right answer.
Again, with more enthusiasm.
"Dink, can we fix it?!"
"Mommy, I don't want to talk now so you be quiet."
So much for playing along.
Then, she's back in space again. Someday, I want to visit wherever she goes to. It must be nice. She goes there a lot.