… and I have a captive audience. And because he is not my own child I can afford to drop all false modesty and say yes, yes, yes – this absolutely adorable munchkin is my nephew… And is the greatest thing since sliced bread, the wheel and Anne Geddes pictures. So here’s the milestone update. He’s 5 months and babbles non-stop all day. He chews his fingers, chokes on them and goes back to it with a vengeance. And he called my brother, Dada. My baby brother, being called Dada by this piece of cake. Of course, the brother says Open Quote – In his defence, I think he was trying to throw up and words came out accidentally. End quote.
Can I slap the brother because he’s always going to be my annoyingly modest kid brother? And because the SIL told us that the mad sibling sat there saying “Say dada, dada…” And the little doll repeated each time, Da-da.
Rude family members say he takes after his talkative aunt. Am still up for a title for self (and the OA). The Mallu Cheriamma (I whacked that off a friend) and Khala currently top my list. Anyone got any other options?
I sent the SIL a big hug. It’s a pity all our kids say Dada before Mama. Yes, yes I know it’s because it’s easier to pronounce but don’t try to reason with a young mother unless you want your nose punched in. We’re the primary caregivers and still not the first words out of their little ungrateful rosebud mouths! I leave you with pictures as usual.
*goes off sniffing and wiping nose…* My baby brother’s baby just learnt to say Dada…
And oh.. don’t worry about the scheduled breakdown. The kids are back and all is right with my world. As long as the reason I am throwing my career down the crapper is before my eyes, I am not worried about taking my eye off the career goal!