Jolee's Monologue this Morning (July 27, 1998)
Just to give you an idea of what it's like taking Jolee to daycare in
the morning, this is the conversation I had with her today:
[Walking down the stairs, Jolee sees a painting of a deer in a river]
JOLEE: Bambi.
BILL: That's Bambi allright.
JOLEE: Bye-bye Bambi.
[further down the stairs]
JOLEE: Bitch.
BILL: What?
JOLEE: Bitch, bitch!
[I look behind me, she is pointing to another painting of a beach]
BILL: OH! BEEEECH!
JOLEE: Yeah, bitch!
BILL: Beeeech.
JOLEE: Beesh.
BILL: Close enough.
[I open the door downstairs]
JOLEE: Outside!
BILL: Uh-huh
JOLEE: Clouds
BILL: Big, puffy clouds.
JOLEE: Bag.
[Trash day]
BILL: Yup.
JOLEE: Pree flowers.
BILL: Yeah, pretty flowers.
JOLEE: Pree flowers.
(Note that ALL flowers, even dead ones, are pree flowers)
JOLEE: Bag.
(Jolee is now riding on my shoulders, as we walk from 92nd Street and
turn onto 4th Avenue)
JOLEE: One. Pee. Oh. Essss. Pee.
(Jolee is reading, randomly, characters in the sign for Pr1ma Pasta)
JOLEE: Bus!
(Jolee sees a truck that says "Enjoy Coca-Cola"
JOLEE: Eeeee!
(We walk pass a big mess where the restaurant trash is deposited. It
smells and there is a disgusting melange of refuse on the sidewalk)
JOLEE: Oh gross!
BILL: Yeah, that stinks.
JOLEE: Gross.
(We turn onto 91st Street, and the conversation dwindles, although she
does point out a few "bags" and "bottles" in the trash cans along the
street).
Thus, a typical conversation with Jolee, the verbal one.
Grandpa Leon replied:
Bill:
Good morning. I particularly enjoyed this morning's Jolee-mail because
it brought back so many memories of you, Alicia and Seth as you
discovered the wonders of the spoken language. I think there is no more
exciting time as a parent than watching and listening as a child tries
out sounds, waiting for your response; then soon they become real words,
then phrases, then sentences, then endless monologues.
I see you are enjoying the experience as much as I did with you. Mazel
Tov.
Love,
Dad
the morning, this is the conversation I had with her today:
[Walking down the stairs, Jolee sees a painting of a deer in a river]
JOLEE: Bambi.
BILL: That's Bambi allright.
JOLEE: Bye-bye Bambi.
[further down the stairs]
JOLEE: Bitch.
BILL: What?
JOLEE: Bitch, bitch!
[I look behind me, she is pointing to another painting of a beach]
BILL: OH! BEEEECH!
JOLEE: Yeah, bitch!
BILL: Beeeech.
JOLEE: Beesh.
BILL: Close enough.
[I open the door downstairs]
JOLEE: Outside!
BILL: Uh-huh
JOLEE: Clouds
BILL: Big, puffy clouds.
JOLEE: Bag.
[Trash day]
BILL: Yup.
JOLEE: Pree flowers.
BILL: Yeah, pretty flowers.
JOLEE: Pree flowers.
(Note that ALL flowers, even dead ones, are pree flowers)
JOLEE: Bag.
(Jolee is now riding on my shoulders, as we walk from 92nd Street and
turn onto 4th Avenue)
JOLEE: One. Pee. Oh. Essss. Pee.
(Jolee is reading, randomly, characters in the sign for Pr1ma Pasta)
JOLEE: Bus!
(Jolee sees a truck that says "Enjoy Coca-Cola"
JOLEE: Eeeee!
(We walk pass a big mess where the restaurant trash is deposited. It
smells and there is a disgusting melange of refuse on the sidewalk)
JOLEE: Oh gross!
BILL: Yeah, that stinks.
JOLEE: Gross.
(We turn onto 91st Street, and the conversation dwindles, although she
does point out a few "bags" and "bottles" in the trash cans along the
street).
Thus, a typical conversation with Jolee, the verbal one.
Grandpa Leon replied:
Bill:
Good morning. I particularly enjoyed this morning's Jolee-mail because
it brought back so many memories of you, Alicia and Seth as you
discovered the wonders of the spoken language. I think there is no more
exciting time as a parent than watching and listening as a child tries
out sounds, waiting for your response; then soon they become real words,
then phrases, then sentences, then endless monologues.
I see you are enjoying the experience as much as I did with you. Mazel
Tov.
Love,
Dad
posted by Tattoosday at 8:09 AM
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