Multiplication

“Do they breed?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Breed?”
“Who”
“Lizards. I mean, not do they breed but how do they breed?”
I'm not convinced that his emphasis clarifies his question? I look into the bleary eyes of my husband. [translation = significant other] Is it morning or night, if you return home from work at 3 and it’s still dark?
“Well don’t quote me, but I have my suspicions.”
“Do you think we should check on-line what sex they are?”
“I’ll add it to me ‘to do’ list if you like. Put your mind at rest.”
“Don’t you think that one is looking a bit pudgey?” We peer into the aquarium.
“What it is?” pounces Junior.
“What is what dear?”
“Dah ‘pudgey’?” he blurts.
“Fat.”
“He is not dah fat! He is dah cute.” Never insult a lizard regardless of the time of day.
"Maybe he's about to have a growing spurt?" I offer.
"Maybe, perhaps grow a bit longer."
"Dey don't shed, it is dah "snakes dat are shed," not lizards."
“That’s as well as may be,” spouse adds, raking his hair. "Let's not get bogged down in "that" again."
“What it is?”
“What is what, dear?”
“Dah ‘may be’? It is dah same as dah ‘maybe’?”
Spouse leans on the edge of the table, fingertips tented and breathes deeply. He swallows a yawn at five minutes past six in the morning, before continuing, “well he may also be pregnant.”
I look at my husband. He looks at me. His eyes widen, slightly. We both know, that it didn’t come out quite right. We look at junior and wait for the question.

It doesn’t come. Instead he asks “how many?”
“How many what dear?”
“How many dah babies he is having? Er…….eggs dat are havin dah babies inside of dah shell?”
Oh great. Just great.
“I’ll leave you to explain that one dear, I have toast to burn.”

Change of Name Deed

I wait patiently, lurking in the shadows, as my boys hang over the edge of the aquarium, bidding a fond farewell to their reptiles.
“We love you ickle wickle ones. Be good boys why we are away!”
“Dey are not boys, idiot!” admonishes one non verbal child, to the older but more severely speech delayed child. The soothing tones with which they coo, are reserved for the animal kingdom. Mankind, does not fair so well in the humane department.
“Do dey have food?”
“Yes, idiot. Look dey have dah healfee foodz!” blurts the neophobic one. He may not eat any of it himself, but he is more than capable of appreciating what a healthy diet might consist of.
“Look at iz lickle claws! Day are so cute. Ain’t you jus dah little gorgeous one!”
“He dah beautiful. He is dah stripey. We love him cutsie wootsie one.”

Oh please! Get on with it won’t you boys. How many compliments can a few small cold blooded creatures take? Don’t you think you’re going a bit over the top? The ‘compliments’ lesson with the speech pathologist, was weeks ago now. How come this skill has to percolate through to the surface right now, just as they’re about to go out. Couldn’t they have delayed the arrival of this skill until they arrived at the restaurant? Couldn’t the average over worked, underpaid server, benefit so much more greatly from the odd kindness? Why waste all these words on reptiles?

Spouse yells at them from the garage, ‘now or never,’ to lure them to the car, to take them to the restaurant, just the four of them, whilst I wait at home, the non eating member of the party. They scamper past me in a blur. I scamper after them just in time to see the garage door close. Hey! What about me! Don’t I get so much as a non verbal hand wave?

Talk about immature, attention seeking behaviour!

I’m seriously thinking of changing my name to ‘lizard.’