The boys are sitting quietly on the floor, newly purchased wallets already ripped and prised open by greedy little fingers as they count their money and murmur quietly back and forth. They are obsessed with money these days (yes STILL) and have quickly deduced that the best way of getting their little greedy paws on some is to hit up Grandpa. Which they do. Several times a day.
Both boys have been caught red-handed up on tippie-toe, reaching up behind Grandpa's bed for his money box where he keeps bucket loads of change and small bills. We are trying to teach them that no matter how much the lust for cold hard cash is, they have to ASK Grandpa and not steal from him. This doesn't seem to be working though and I suspect we might have a few burglars in the making.
The other day we got into the lift from the beach and an old man with a very raspy voice said, 'Hi how are you?" and Egg without missing a beat, rasped back in identical mimicry, "I'm fine how are you?" It was all I could do to not burst out laughing but the old geezer didn't catch on so it was okay.
Speaking of utterances, yesterday we stopped off for a mid-morning gourmet coffee break and the boys discovered a gleaming eye-level see through jar of 'Bee-Bops' (Dumpie's made up word for lollipops which Egg has now taken on board as well). Dumpie deftly lifted off the lid, helped himself to a cherry one whilst procuring one for his big brother as well, and luckily the lady running the place thought they were adorable as opposed to thieving little rats and said they could have them 'on the house'. She asked how old they were and Egg answered correctly before asking in a fairly loud voice (several times so as to better insure a response), "And how OLD are you? I said how OLD are you?" Again, we laughed. Being a woman of indeterminate age, she might not have found that as amusing as we did.
Getting back into the hot car yesterday, I had the good fortune NOT to hear Egg's first utterance which was, "It's f______ hot in here!" Auntie did though, and shocked, she burst out laughing, alerting me to my eldests proficiency for pottie-mouth. Egg just looked over, nonplussed, and said, 'Well Dada says that'. Oops. Hear that Dada? You had better temper that tongue of yours, for all our sakes, or I'll be hauled into the Head's Office at Egg's school faster than you can say 'unauthorised absences'.
Dumpie's speaking is coming along in leaps and bounds. We understand perfectly what he says, though he likes to put in made up words now and then just to keep us on our toes. Here is a current sampling of his vocab at present:
And of course their is the illustrious "Da" sound which, much like Mandarin Chinese, depending on how you say it, can mean several very different things:
"Daaa" (apple juice)
Every morning Dumps wakes me up (we share a bed) by tenderly stroking my cheek, flashing me a huge grin and gently purring, "Mamaaa". If I pretend to still be asleep he will climb over me, hanging his head upside down, his face mere millimeters from mine, poke my nose and enquire again, lovingly, cajolingly, "Mamaaaa?". At this point there is nothing to do but smile as graciously as a 5am wake up will allow, and haul yourself out of bed and into service for the little one. He'll then hop down off the high bed as deftly as a chubby gymnast, grab his wallet (they sleep with them) and tear off into the front room in search of "Bee-Bops", powdered donuts or any other loot they can get their grubby little hands on. In other words, same an normal.
Well I must go. I don't hear them. Which must mean that they are wreaking havoc in Grandpa's room. Plus I need a coffee. A strong coffee. Mind you Dumpie just now ran into the room, his entire mouth, lips and chin stained artificial blue. That is not a good sign.
The boy has been 'Bee-Bopped'.