Say _____________

Prior to E falling asleep last night as I was a tucking him in, he looked up at me, blew me a kiss and said "Say 'Bu-Bye'".  This was the third time yesterday E used a new word. SAY.  He hears me tell him all of the time, "Say 'Hi'", "Say 'Bye'", "What do you say?", "Say 'Thank You.'"  Obviously, his intent last night was to tell me, "I am done with you, please leave me alone.  I might go to sleep, I might not, but whatever I will do, I don't want you around me anymore."

A little explanation of E bedtime routine might be helpful.  After I tuck E in for the night, I usually stay in the room and read.  Occasionally, I'll have to jump into action and keep him in bed or in his room.  Most of the time I tell him to lay down, put your head on your pillow, and the like, which he complies in doing.

E has often said Bu-Bye to me during his bedtime routine.  My usual response is Yes, but go to sleep first.  But he has never told me to say, "Bu-Bye".  My response to his directive was, "I love you too much to let you fall asleep without me.  Nice try; I admire your effort.  Good work using your new word."  A look of distain and irritation came over his face, which he covered with his favorite blankie.  I took my position sitting in the corner of his room with a vantage point that allowed me to see and react to his rascal-like tendencies.

After about ten minutes, I heard the snoring signal of a sleeping son.  I adjusted the covers over him and smiled, knowing that he is indeed my son.  Despite the challenges imposed upon him, he still projects the impish smirk I still occasionally flash when my own rascal-like tendencies emerge.

I can't fault him.  He is genetically predisposed to challenge the authority of others.  Both Sandi and I (probably me more than her) seem to have a more than slight proclivity to challenging the status quo.  We push envelopes, barriers both professionally and parentally.  It is likely the reason where we are and definitely why Eion is where he is.

Say - is the first new word E has spoken in probably three years.  Oh, he types new words every day, the fact that he was able to use his mouth and vocal cords to say a new word is, well, .........amazing.  I am not sure what to attribute the acquisition and production of his new word.  Unlike other words, which are approximations, this was a clear, unambiguous pronunciation.  No guess was needed to determine the word he wanted to use.  It was just there.

In thinking back on last night, it still makes me smile.  His correct word usage and the very manner he used it reminds me of my youth, particularly of an event that still haunts my mom to this day.  I was thirteen years old and we were at the dentist for my semi-annual check up and cleaning.  The dental hygienist and mom were lecturing me about brushing better and flossing.  The hygienist warned that if I didn't I might have to have dentures and no one likes dentures.  The same impish smirk probably had appeared on my face.  My response to her was well I don't know if I wouldn't like dentures, I've never had them before.  To which a now paled faced hygienist rises from her seat and scampers out of the room.  I suddenly feel the hairs on my neck rise as I sense my mom getting ready to explode.  I turn with the smirk to my mom's red face, bulging eyes, teeth gritted and veins in her neck fully distended.

Will you shut your mouth, she snapped.

Oh boy!  I thought.  The irony of being told to keep your mouth shut at the dentist's office.  I think for a second about informing my mom of the irony, but decide that another word at this moment probably will not be the best of ideas.

The door opens, sure enough, the hygienist has now brought the dentist into the room, who proceeds to give me the same speech about brushing, flossing and dentures.

Common sense would have probably dictated that I not repeat the dentally offending statement. But I am thirteen years old, I have no common sense.  Out comes the same declaration of unfamiliarity with dentures or my possible affinity for them.

My mom saves me from myself, grabs me by the back of the shirt and proceeds to bull rush me out of the dentist's office with all of the love and concern of a bulldozer.  The 30 minute drive home was one of the longest thirty minutes in my life and wherein I honestly believe that I was going to be sold to gypsies.

I am not sure to this day what is more dismaying to my mom, whether it was the fact that I repeated the statement to the dentist or the fact that my father agreed with declarations regarding dentures.

So, when I say E comes by it honestly, he really does.

I am sure I will be told to Say [blank] in the future by E; I'll smile and politely decline his request and implied message.

Thanks E for being the apple that didn't fall too far from the tree.

Thanks for reading; more to come.