My husband has had a revelation. His daughter talks incessantly. It’s something that I’ve known for a long time, actually since her birth, but I suppose that spending a few days at home with her, in a row, sort of cemented the idea in his head.
She’s been vocal literally since day zero. The kid could get her message across with everything from grimaces to full out screaming and somehow she managed to let me know what exactly it was that was ticking her off at the time. I flattered myself by thinking that maybe it was the mother-daughter bond, new to me as I was only acquainted with the mother-son bond. I was wrong; the kid just knew how to vocalize. And she has vocalized ever since.
She starts her day talking and honestly, that’s how she ends it. She talk to me, her dad, her brothers, the dogs, cats, fish, stuffed animals and any other kind of object, animate or inanimate, non-stop, all day, every day. Even now she’s talking to those little bendy waxy pipe cleaners. I don’t have a damn clue what she’s saying to them, but by God, she’s giving them an earful.
I proudly say she’s got a grand imagination and that’s going to serve her well in adulthood. She’s just so smart that she has to express herself. You just can’t contain brains like hers. But her dad thinks different. He says she’s a blabbermouth who will never stop talking. I guess the truth lay somewhere in the middle.
I remember giggling in the back seat of my grandparents’ Towncar with my cousin. We were probably 10 or maybe a little older and whatever we were talking about was giving us fits of giggles and that goofy silly voice you get when you can’t stop laughing long enough to speak. My grandfather, who had quite a lot of patience, wondered out loud if a person had only so many words they would utter in their lifetime and once they’d reached that limit, they’d simply stop speaking. Honestly, he may have said ‘drop over dead’ but my grandmother probably overruled in deference to her granddaughters in the back seat. But I’ve always remembered him saying that, usually in the back of my mind as my daughter happily chats away. If my grandfather had it right, I suspect that come Tuesday, my daughter will be mute.
But until that time, I’m going to do my very best to pay attention and to all she has to say. (Maybe)