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The orator

  • Tagged The kids, The talking
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Ezra really wants to talk. So what he does instead is open his mouth and emit whatever noises he can persuade his underdeveloped voice box to produce. We find this hilarious and endlessly entertaining, since it gives us the uniquely parental opportunity to speak for him. Scenes like this happen dozens of times per day:

Ezra: “BabababmamamamaYAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH”
Sarah (in Ezra voice): “I have some very important things to say about the situation in the rainforest!”
Ezra: “HA. Pffffttttthhh. Mmmmmwaawaawaa!”
Sarah: “But I can’t remember precisely what it was about.”
Ezra: “Wawawaaaaaaahhhhhh. OOOOOOOwa.”
Sarah: “Probably monkeys.”

Yesterday afternoon we met up at a bar with my cousin Mike to watch the USA-Ghana game, and Ezra came along for the pre-game show and a few minutes of action. He was pretty easygoing and quiet right up until Ghana scored, which pulled some kind of trigger and made him turn him into something of a baby vuvuzela. I was giggling along with him, until I realized, oh yeah, people are trying to watch a game here, and they probably don’t find this kind of babble endearing. (You’d be surprised how quickly this filter breaks when you become a father.) Time for cheering buddy to go. I’m pretty sure the quick exit soured him and caused him to put a curse on the American team.

So Sarah took Ezra home, where, undeterred to finish his very important speech, he continued:

Aaaaaand scene.

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