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Sunday, 6 December 2015

The comedy stylings of Master Duckling

The last few weeks have been a bit of a roller coaster in the Duck household, with Duckling's various illnesses and the hospital admission. Now he's better though, he's making up for all the stress and worry in the best possible way: by making us laugh as only a toddler of one-and-three-quarters can.

Honestly, sometimes my child is pure comedy gold. I know every parent delights in the sweet hilarity of their kids (it's their primary saving grace) but Duckling seems to be on particularly fine form at present. At the risk of sounding rather indulgent, here are a few of my current favourite Ducklingisms:
  • He's taken to seeking out my bras and thrusting them in my direction shouting "bye bye boobies!". Because, you know, logically that IS what happens when you don a brassiere...
  • He's totally in love with sitting in items he's much too big for and spinning around. Like saucepans. And colanders. And the salad spinner. 
  • His wonderful "make do" approach to talking. If he can't say the word, he uses something which roughly fits the bill. Hence the bath is a "puddle", an aeroplane is a "neeow", my brush is a "hair", coins and other small objects are "peas/bees" (hard to tell which) and Peppa Pig is a loud grunting noise. When he can say the word, he often likes to emphasise it by saying it twice too ("go go", "door door", "num num"). He can actually speak in rough sentences, but unless you have your Duckling to English dictionary handy, you're never going to understand what "Marmar go go neenor Mummy" means ("Grandma is going home in her car Mummy" for reference). And, my favourite part, if all else fails, he will just call an object a "deedah": his version of a doodah I believe. 
  • The tongue of concentration. Not even two and already displaying one of the traits (sticking my tongue out while concentrating) I get teased about the most by Drake. I'm very proud.
  • His obsession with the fridge. It's floor level and we have no way of properly locking it, so he's in there every time my back is turned. This mostly causes intense irritation and blueberries all over the floor, but it can be quite amusing too. Like the time he made a train out of all of the condiments. Or stuffed 5 cocktail sausages in his mouth at once just as Grandma arrived, then tried to yell "Heyo Marmar".... Or tried to eat a red onion thinking it was an apple...
  • The moments of sheer surrealism. Yesterday he took his plastic farmyard pig into the bath with him. "Wo dat?" he asked, pointing to the line of nipples on the pig's belly. "They're her nipples" I said. "Like her boobies." "Ooooh, num num!" said Duckling, then pretended to pick off each nipple like a grape and pop it in his mouth, smacking his lips and declaring it to be "mmmmm, nummy". After I'd been handed a few invisible nipples and declared them 'nummy' too, it occurred to me I should possibly be disturbed by all this detachable nipple munching. Thankfully he hasn't tried it on me yet though.
  • His odd clothing-related quirks. For example, he absolutely cannot possibly go to bed without socks on, and will wake up to protest if one falls off in the night. Or his love/hate relationship with hats - wears them when he doesn't need to, rejects them when he does. Or his pathological hatred of his snazzy red and grey hoody top (it's lovely - I honestly have no idea what he has against it).
  • His insistence on shouting "Oh no!" at every instance of mild disaster, even when he has quite obviously been the cause of the disaster concerned. "Oh no!" he cried yesterday, with an expression of mock horror on his face as he rammed his block trolley repeatedly into his Duplo farm, scattering various plastic animals across the living room. "Oh no!" he yelled this morning, as he shoved his poor toy meerkat down the back of the bed for the seventeenth time in a row. "Oh no, oh no!" he screeched in the bath this evening as he emptied his watering can onto my lap...
  • The fact that everything in life must be categorised into "Mummy", "Daddy" and "Me". Three different sized teddy bears? "Mummy bear, Daddy bear, Me bear!" Shoes under the stairs? "Mummy's doos, Daddy's doos, Me doos!", Random cars parked along the street? "Mummy's neenor, Daddy's neenor, Mummy's neenor, Mummy's neenor, Daddy's neenor, ME NEENOR!" Apparently he owns a 2005 Ford Mondeo. Who knew?
Yep, sometimes owning a toddler is utterly brilliant. Surreal, baffling and quite often messy, but brilliant nonetheless.

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