04 June 2010

The Buddha Eats Spaghetti

This title might seem a bit odd at first glance, if not an outright error. It is a statement so bizarre and outlandish (and yet, strangely ordinary) as to produce untold amounts of head-scratching, if not immense confusion. Which stands to reason as it was conceived and ushered into the world by the growing mind and boundless imagination of a not-quite-two-year-old. To whom, I'm sure, it made perfect sense.

(Side note: If I ever write a parenting book, this has to be the title.)

Perhaps some background is in order. After learning the word spaghetti (or as he says, "sa-ba-gee"), our little Doozer has grown a bit obsessive about it, working it into conversation whenever the opportunity presents itself. And sometimes not. It has even supplanted his previous quasi-word for pasta, "noo," or noodles. He must like the sound of this new word, because his use of it has grown so exponentially in such short order that it almost seems to be a compulsion.

When asked at the end of a day what he did that day, the swift reply will often be, "Eat . . . sa-ba-gee," whether this is actually what he did that day or not. (Usually, it's not.) And he also assumes that spaghetti is universally adored (on this, he is probably correct), that he is far from alone in his devotion. This extends to all manner of wild animals. When asked what a (insert animal here: moose, snake, squirrel, deer, etc.) eats, the answer will invariably be sa-ba-gee.

Great, now he's got me doing it. I meant, spaghetti.

Having also just learned the term "Buddha," because two small decorative ones reside in our foyer, he performed the perfect mash-up when, one night, apropros of absolutely nothing, he pointed to one of the Buddhas and told me, "Buddha . . . eat . . . sa-ba-gee." These ellipses, by the way, are not literary embellishment, but rather an accurate depication of his speaking style. It's as if he's slowly, intentionally building suspense for his proclamations. Not unlike Barney Stinson saying, "It's going to be legen . . . wait for it . . . dary."

Recently, when told about the birth of a semi-contemporary and potential future playmate (a friend's newborn baby girl--read all about her here: http://westernmassmama.blogspot.com/), the Doozer quickly learned her name and then told us (yes, told us, this was definitely not a question), "Ruby . . . eat . . . sa-ba-gee!" Wiping away the tears, we had to inform him, with regret, that as of now she probably only drinks milk, that newborns do not yet have the mastication skills necessary to consume pasta noodles in any form.

And though he could not properly articulate such a complex thought, I'm pretty sure the look on his face at that moment indicated exactly what was on his mind:

"Man, is she missing out . . ."

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