Friday, June 30, 2006
Lost in Kids: My Dinner with Raphael
Our family were dinner guests at someone's house last week. I was sitting in the middle, with the adults on my right, and the kids across from me and on my left. Kids can be pretty loud, so I was having trouble following the adult conversation. The young child on my left, who I had somehow managed to not yet meet, was blathering endlessly. "Blah blah styrofoam bones blah blah." I turned to listen and he was looking at me and continued, "Hep wop hammer and blah blah blah. It was fun."
"Are you talking to me?" I asked.
"Yeah. We all did it. Blah blah blah and then blah the bones came out. It was fun."
"Are you speaking in English?" I asked. (This is a favorite question of mine to kids I can't understand.)
"Yes. Hitting the blah blah and all the dirt rarch dun blah blah was fun."
I have a daughter who can pratter on nonstop (and I do mean the entire day) and I have developed the ability to just turn off the ears. Or rather, I don't have the ability to keep my ears on after a while. I've watched others attempt to understand her and asked afterwards if it made sense, and usually they say it did not, so I haven't felt it necessary to train myself to listen to endless streams of incomprehensible nonsense. However, I thought this was an opportunity to be lost in kids, so instead I paid attention and asked, "Are you making any sense?"
"Yeah. The best part was pulling out the styrofoam bones."
"Styrofoam bones?" I asked incredulously.
"No, dinosaur bones. We hit 'em with a hammer to get the dirt off."
"You hit dinosaur bones with a hammer? Do you mean you were digging them out of dirt?"
"Yeah. We dug out an entire stegosaurus. Well, not an actual stegosaurus, but the bones like you see in a musem. They dig those out of the ground just like we did. It was fun."
"You dug up an entire whole stegosaurus out of the ground?"
"Yup. We dug it out by hitting the dirt with a hammer. Well, not hitting hard because you can hurt the bones. It wasn't actually a hammer. It was one of those pointy things for digging."
"You mean a pick?"
"No. One of those things you use like a hammer but has a point on it."
"Yeah. That's called a 'pick'."
"Oh, OK. Anyway, we'd hit the dirt with the hammer and knock it all apart and then pull out the dinosaur bones and carefully wipe off the dirt. The whole class did it together. It was fun. Well, not everyone. The teacher didn't do it."
"You mean at school everyone dug dinosaur bones out of the ground? Were these real dinosaur bones?"
"No. They were made of plastic. We just were digging them out of the dirt. I don't think it was real dirt, either. And it wasn't in the ground. It was a big block of dirt with the stegosaurus inside. We'd hit it with the hammer and pull out the bones. It was fun."
"OK. I can believe this now. By the way, we haven't met. My name's Jack. What's yours?"
"Raphael."
"Hi Raphael. Do you spell that with a "PH" or an "F"?"
"With a 'PH'. 'PH' makes a sound just like an 'F'."
"Uh, yeah, I know. That's why I asked. Hey! That's just like that ninja turtle who uses the, uh, a tsai, or no," my memory of that nonsense from my older son is seriously fading, and Raphael didn't seem willing to help me out, "um, I don't remember. You know the ninja turtles?"
"No."
"Oh they don't have ninja turtles anymore?"
"Yeah. There's a turtle named Raphael, just like me."
Our family were dinner guests at someone's house last week. I was sitting in the middle, with the adults on my right, and the kids across from me and on my left. Kids can be pretty loud, so I was having trouble following the adult conversation. The young child on my left, who I had somehow managed to not yet meet, was blathering endlessly. "Blah blah styrofoam bones blah blah." I turned to listen and he was looking at me and continued, "Hep wop hammer and blah blah blah. It was fun."
"Are you talking to me?" I asked.
"Yeah. We all did it. Blah blah blah and then blah the bones came out. It was fun."
"Are you speaking in English?" I asked. (This is a favorite question of mine to kids I can't understand.)
"Yes. Hitting the blah blah and all the dirt rarch dun blah blah was fun."
I have a daughter who can pratter on nonstop (and I do mean the entire day) and I have developed the ability to just turn off the ears. Or rather, I don't have the ability to keep my ears on after a while. I've watched others attempt to understand her and asked afterwards if it made sense, and usually they say it did not, so I haven't felt it necessary to train myself to listen to endless streams of incomprehensible nonsense. However, I thought this was an opportunity to be lost in kids, so instead I paid attention and asked, "Are you making any sense?"
"Yeah. The best part was pulling out the styrofoam bones."
"Styrofoam bones?" I asked incredulously.
"No, dinosaur bones. We hit 'em with a hammer to get the dirt off."
"You hit dinosaur bones with a hammer? Do you mean you were digging them out of dirt?"
"Yeah. We dug out an entire stegosaurus. Well, not an actual stegosaurus, but the bones like you see in a musem. They dig those out of the ground just like we did. It was fun."
"You dug up an entire whole stegosaurus out of the ground?"
"Yup. We dug it out by hitting the dirt with a hammer. Well, not hitting hard because you can hurt the bones. It wasn't actually a hammer. It was one of those pointy things for digging."
"You mean a pick?"
"No. One of those things you use like a hammer but has a point on it."
"Yeah. That's called a 'pick'."
"Oh, OK. Anyway, we'd hit the dirt with the hammer and knock it all apart and then pull out the dinosaur bones and carefully wipe off the dirt. The whole class did it together. It was fun. Well, not everyone. The teacher didn't do it."
"You mean at school everyone dug dinosaur bones out of the ground? Were these real dinosaur bones?"
"No. They were made of plastic. We just were digging them out of the dirt. I don't think it was real dirt, either. And it wasn't in the ground. It was a big block of dirt with the stegosaurus inside. We'd hit it with the hammer and pull out the bones. It was fun."
"OK. I can believe this now. By the way, we haven't met. My name's Jack. What's yours?"
"Raphael."
"Hi Raphael. Do you spell that with a "PH" or an "F"?"
"With a 'PH'. 'PH' makes a sound just like an 'F'."
"Uh, yeah, I know. That's why I asked. Hey! That's just like that ninja turtle who uses the, uh, a tsai, or no," my memory of that nonsense from my older son is seriously fading, and Raphael didn't seem willing to help me out, "um, I don't remember. You know the ninja turtles?"
"No."
"Oh they don't have ninja turtles anymore?"
"Yeah. There's a turtle named Raphael, just like me."
# posted by Jack @ 6:52 PM 
