It's been a while since I've done one of these, but this one was worth the wait.
We have three little boys in the house, and only one is actually talking in words and sentences. Connor, at four, never stops talking. Xander, of course, does love to say his letters and count to 12 (don't ask me why it's to 12 and not 10 or 20, I have no idea). He also tries to say a word or 20 here and there, but it's very random and sporadic and very rarely more than one word at a time. And Sawyer, well, he speaks a language we don't understand yet. Mostly he pushes, pulls and points.
All three effective, in their own way. But it's the four year-old who speaks that I'm thinking of tonight. We're noticing a new pattern with him, one that's equal parts cute and annoying.
So, let's say he's done something good and you compliment him on a job well done. Maybe you say, "You did a great job sharing with your brothers!" or something to that effect. He will respond with the appropriate, polite and very cute, "Thank you!" But, before you've had time to think of, much less say an actual response, he immediately follows with, "Say you're welcome, Connor!" in a rather smug and superior little voice.
See, cute. And also extremely annoying.
Let's take another example. Perhaps he's thinking about a fun day in the pool tomorrow. He might start with "We go swimming in our pool tomorrow!" He expects an immediate response, just as he always does when he speaks. If you're not quick enough, he will promptly tell you what you should have said. "Say, yes, Connor, we'll swim in our pool tomorrow."
Or, he sneezes. And you're not quite fast enough with the "Bless you!" for his taste (meaning you didn't start saying it as he was actually sneezing). He'll turn to you with a look of supreme agitation and say, "Say, bless you, Connor!"
And, well, you get the idea. It doesn't matter what he asks or what he says. He expects a response. An immediate response. And if you're the slightest bit too slow, he's just going to tell you what you should say. In a completely matter-of-fact and without a single doubt in his mind kind of way.
Of course, I have to see the irony of my life. We wish and hope and pray for speech with our two youngest boys who have so far struggled with language. And then we have our four year-old, who speaks as though his breathing depends upon it and who has now gone so far as to begin anticipating responses and saying those, too.
Maybe he can teach his brothers. Clearly he knows it all.
