Mary found some metal poles under my bed. I think they are for the bassinet feature on the pack'n'play. David instantly commandeered them from her and disappeared. A few minutes later he returned with one of them.
"Look, Mom. My really big too-buh!" (Actually, he said, "My wi-wee bird too-buh," but I could translate the first part just fine. It was the word "too-buh" that was going to give me some difficulty.)
"Wow! Is that your really big (Context! Context! I had no context. But he's been playing with tools a lot lately). . . tool bar?"
"No. My really big too-buh."
"Oh. Your really big . . . tool box?"
"No! My really big too-buh."
"Tool bear?"
"No. My really big TOO-BUH!"
Ah ha! I had it: "Wow. I like your really big tooth brush!"
"No. TOO-BUH."
"Tooth paste?"
"No."
"Tall building?"
"No. TOO-BUH."
Maybe the "t" was throwing me off. Perhaps the word didn't really start with "t."
"School bus?"
"No."
"Tool bus?"
"No."
"School bear?"
"No."
Maybe how he was saying it had no relation to the real word, which used to happen a lot. Since I had started guessing, I felt compelled to continue on. I did not want him to see me give up. I wanted him to know he can communicate with me! I started guessing frantically.
"Tow truck?"
"Baseball bat?!"
"Wrench?!!"
"Tree leaf?!!!"
"No."
"No."
"No."
"No. Mom, look. My really big TOO-BUH!"
"Tuba?"
"Yes! My really big t00-buh!" Duh. That's exactly what he had said. He looked at me (again) like I was dumbest person in the world, and, to be honest, that's how I felt.
He then proceeded to happily "play" his really big tuba for me.
(By the way: How does he know what a tuba is?)
