Chat-o-meister

Not many parents would tell a baby to shut up, but we did – constantly. After endless hours of his blabber we’d say, “Shut up, Samu,” despite ourselves. His jibberish was beyond cute and oh, kids say the darndest things – it was literally, “can you just shut up for five minutes? Just five minutes!”

It never hurt his feelings – quite the contrary. It got to the point where he’d respond, “No I can’t – I’m a non-shutter upper!”

As he got older, the Chat-o-meister got worse. What, with school and all, he’s armed with a bigger vocabulary. He can articulate now and give visuals. Way to go, level P reader! The other day, in a crowded elevator, he said to his friend, “My mom washes her hair in the bathtub, so sometimes her hair is in our bath and it’s irritating. And gross.”

Which was better than his explanation of an altercation at school that went, “Nicholas said the “b” word – you know bitch -,”

“Samu, you’re not supposed to say the word. You just call it the “b” word.”

“Yeah, but you might’ve thought I meant bastard.”

Thank you, Samu. Thanks for being so – thorough.

He has yet to ask me for his own Facebook page or email account so he can spread the word. He does, however, want my old camera so he can make his own movies. I’m assuming the storyline will be something along the lines of “Bad Piggy finds the box of tampons and decides to launch them at the stray cats in our community driveway!”

Don’t worry – you won’t be subjected to his nonsensical movie marathons. First of all, I have no intention of sifting through our boxes and boxes of junk just to find our old camera, only to sift through the same mess to find the battery charger. Second, it’s inevitably going to be me who has to edit all his hapless footage and upload it to Youtube.

Speaking of which, he hasn’t figured out that he would need his own Youtube account. Unlike his buddy at the schoolyard, who has that all covered. This kid, Shane, is only in Kindergarten but he’s as tall, if not taller than Samu. He comes up to me and says, “I’m getting my own Gmail!”

So I say, “Great! Tell me – who would be emailing you?” Because seriously, who emails a letter of the alphabet or just sight words?

Shane says, rather curtly, “Not E-mail – G mail. G. G. G – mail! Not E!”

Now I’m thoroughly confused and tell him so. My understanding is that Gmail is an email account, so why would he need it – was the question I posed to him.

He replied, “For my Youtube!”

And he rolls his eyes like he’s just had the most idiotic conversation, ever.

Of course, when I recounted the story to Zuki he sided with Shane saying, “Mom, you know, you are old.”

How does that even make sense? Then again, why am I surprised – Zuki, who’s in the fourth grade, says, “Mom, I think I’m getting a boulder.”

A boulder?

He opens his mouth and points to one of his back teeth, “See – this one is loose. I think I’m getting a new boulder.”

For the record, his molar is fine – it’s his brain that’s loose.

Me: “He doesn’t look like an ‘Andrew'”

Samu: “Maybe he draws a lot.”

Shut up, Samu.

Share