The Rock Star used to say Biss--and sometimes Bissy Biss--instead of juice. And, really, he said it in place of anything that might be in his cup. Anything, that is, except for milk which he called mehp. He used to say all sorts of sweet baby words. He used to say bana. I promised that I would always use the correct word, being banana, but that I would never correct him. It was one of his few remaining baby words and I couldn't bring myself to tell him he was saying it wrong.
Yesterday I realized that he's been calling it a banana for who knows how long. He realized that this discovery left me broken hearted. So he curled up on my lap and repeated, over and over, "Banana! Banana! Banana!" Then he giggled incessantly.
I told him I was never going to let him get off my lap because he was growing up way too fast. He answered by looking deep into my eyes, scrunching up his face and squawking, "BANANA!"
He jumped off my lap and ran away laughing.
I gathered The Little Buddy into my arms. "Matthew, can you say Banana?
He shot his eyes, immediately, to the place on the counter where the bananas are. "Nana!" It wasn't exactly, Bana, but it was still the sweet voice of a child learning how to talk. My four-year-old might be filling out college applications but at least he has a little brother who is just starting to speak.