My son is home sick. Really, he just has a fever. When my son is home, he talks. Endlessly. He wants me to look at him and watch him play, making comments about what he is doing. He wants to me to listen as he rambles on about everything even if he doesn't make any sense.
Gabi: Oh look, matches. We could make a fire.
Me: Gabi, we aren't going to make a fire.
Gabi: What's this part? (He points to the side of the match box). I could light this match. Somehow you have to just teach me how to make fire. When I am 18 or 15, yeah 15. It's not getting any hottter (he's dragging the match alongside the box). What's this part called? How does it work?
This all happens in a span of 15 seconds so it's impossible to explain to him so quickly and I am wondering, maybe he doesn't even want an answer.
Gabi: What's this, what's this for?
Me: It's a pipe.
Gabi: A pipe for what? Why does it have those thing?
It's J's smoking pipe.
Gabi crosses the room.
Gabi: What's these?
Me: Um, those came back from Iraq but I don't know what they are.
Gabi: It's glass, if it falls it will break. Did Dad earn it?
In a span of 2 minutes, Gabi is capable of asking 30 questions. I can' t keep up so I just don't answer.
Gabi: Can we go now?
M: No.
Gabi: Why?
Me: Because you keep talking to me and I can't get my work done. (I know, it sounds rude, but he just keeps talking. When will he take a breath?)
Gabi: (he goes back to playing)Fiv ponts, I win! 99, 99 hundred ponts, throw it n' stab him in the heart, it missed, I am going to do it somewhere else, somewhere noone cares.
He's forgotten that I told him we couldn't leave until he stopped talking so much and I could finish my work.
Boys. You want them to learn to talk, just not all the time.
To be fair, Gabi's only 5 1/2. I will miss this endless chatter one day when he goes off to college.
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