Vivian, my daughter, is gifted in the art of conversation. Not only can she can ask questions and empathize with both peers and adults, but she can do so with her mouth stuffed with food, mid-chew.
Although her twin brother, William, will wait until he swallows to speak, he then proceeds to speak at you like you’re a wall, switching topics randomly. If he were a superhero, he’d be Non Sequiter Boy. The only questions he regularly inserts into conversations are “What’s for dessert?” and “Can I watch TV?”
The other night my husband and I were eating dinner while the kids sat beside us complaining about dinner. In the interest of not smashing my face into my plate, I suggested we play The Questioning Game, something I invented that moment, where one person says the highlight of their day and the other three pose questions about the highlight.
(In the interest of clean dialogue, I’ll take out the kazillion prompts I issued everyone. Let’s just say I was Richard Dawson without the slobbering kisses).
Here is a transcript of our dinner table conversation, a.k.a. The Questioning Game:
Round 1: William’s Highlight
William: I saw a movie on the Smart Board today.
Vivian: What was it about?
William: The big burp.
Me: Was that the actual name of it?
Vivian: Yes.
Me: It’s your brother’s turn. Let him answer. Will, what was your favourite part of the movie?
William: The burps.
Dear Husband (DH): What was your teacher wearing?
(Insert glare from me)
Round 2: DH’s Highlight
DH: I went to the doctor today, and he says I’m getting better.
Vivian: What was his name?
DH: Dr. Smith.
Me: Where was the appointment?
DH: Downtown.
William (prompted with six sentence starters): Was it fun?
DH: Absolutely. (Insert sarcasm)
Round 3: My Highlight
Me: I had a great cup of tea today.
Vivian: What kind? (Insert husband and son zoning out)
Me: Chai.
William (prompted again): Did you like it?
Me: Yes.
DH (confidently): Was it the cup of tea I made you this morning?
Me: No, it was from Starbuck’s.
Round 4: Vivian’s Highlight
Vivian: I had many highlights today. We went on a sensory walk. And we got to visit the staff room which students aren’t usually allowed to go into, and then I also –
DH: One highlight.
Vivian: The time my teacher told me my poem was the best she’s read by a student.
DH: What was it about?
Vivian: Quiet time. It’s called “Shh!”
Me: Did she ask you to write a poem?
Vivian: No, I finished Math early. I just did it.
DH: What was your teacher wearing?
Me: Shh! That’s two questions…William? Your turn to ask Vivian a question.
William (pushing back his chair): I’m done with this.
William proceeds to walk into the pantry and shut the see-though door. He squats and stays there for five minutes.
I stare at the pantry door and wonder aloud:
Once again, we’re putting the fun in dysfunctional.
(I’m guest posting over at Sweet Mama every Wednesday this month. Feel free to click over there to read my National Panic Day post).
Holy crap, toots – our sons would get along like crazy (dessert and TV are his two favourite topics, too). Although my daughter’s only 3, I think Vivian would like her (she just told me I was being inappropriate because I’m typing while she bosses me around). Would you just move next door to me, already???
Maybe we can just annex Saskatchewan, Manitoba, and Western Ontario…then we’d nearly be neighbours! I love how your daughter bosses you around; it make me feel less out of control of my own kids.
Non Sequitur Boy. Nice. Aren’t they all?
What was The Big Burp about? Sounds like my kind of movie.
I think that DH and I could get along…
You and DH likely would get along. Sigh. Not sure if The Big Burp had a plot. To me, it sounds like Dr. Seuss meets the Coen Brothers.
A. I love that Vivian wrote a poem on her own because she finished math early (and that it was the best her teacher had read by a student). Smart Girl.
B. I think Non-Sequiter Boy could be hired out for parties – who doesn’t like random commentary followed by pantry squatting?
C. Your DH’s confidence regarding his tea-making skills is both sweet and sad. He and my husband (and Chase) should hang out and talk about hot teachers (and by that I mean us. right?)
Vivian is my poet in residence. I just may honour her in an April post (April is poetry month).
Clearly, Julie, when men talk about hot teachers they mean us. My husband, however, never fails to remind me of the article The Onion ran a decade ago (one of my favourites), entitled “Teacher of the Year Awards ‘A Fashion Nightmare’.” Here’s the link: http://www.theonion.com/articles/teacher-of-the-year-awards-a-fashion-nightmare,357/
i hope we are still friends when your kids become teenagers. watching them grow up has great amusement value for me. 😉
I’m sure you get a healthy dose of schadenfreude from reading my blog. A bit like watching a train wreck! I’m sure when VW are teens, I won’t be allowed to (a) blog about them, or (b) walk on the same sidewalk as them. Vivian will no doubt have started a “How My Mom Ruined My Life By Blogging Blog.” Stick around. I’ll need you.
Your highlight is the best, Leanne…love the boys zoning out while the girls discuss tea!
At least you attempt conversation at dinner…our kids finish as fast as they can, and run for the electronics. “Pass the kumquats” is about as stimulating as suppertime gets around here!
Wendy
Yes, I could talk about tea for a while. The magnet on my storage cabinet at work reads, “While there is tea, there is hope.” Indeed.
“Pass the kumquats” = hilarious.
I have an entire cupboard in my kitchen for tea…that being said, I really only drink a couple of kinds regularly…
One of my friends has a tea bar in the back of her store…she has over a hundred different kinds of tea!
I definitely could’ve been Non-Sequitur Boy. Of course, I was also left-handed though…
I’m intrigued by the past tense: are you no longer left handed? And are you no longer Non-Sequitur Boy? Do people grow out of this? I hope so (well, regarding the latter, not the former – I wouldn’t want the left-handed-coalition breathing down my neck – i.e. my mom, my brother).
Have you ever tried the game where you whisper a sentence to the family member next to you, that person does same, and final person says it out loud? Big guffaws ensue, as the original line has been completely distorted through the process. I expect a blog post on that fun game 🙂 Hey, trying hard here!
We have played that game at dinner. Especially entertaining as the sentence is passed through a 2YO, 3YO, 5YO, and 7YO. Invariably, “poopy” works its way into every final statement.
We are trying that game tonight! It almost makes we wish I had more children (but I’ll leave that to Chase – see comment below).
Evidently, I should have written “see comment above.” My prepositions are impaired today.
I don’t think your son is like a gnat, in a good way – gnats usually hang around until you kill them.
I’m laughing. When my kids were newborns, I don’t think I would’ve believed that I’d one day call them gnats. Maybe I should never have left the hospital.
Vivian seems like my kind of girl, finishing math early! I sense an engineer in there!
She has a math brain and an artist’s heart. I’m not sure what that will result in. Thanks for commenting!
LOL! I’m going to have to play this game and see what questions are asked!! Seems to me that William and DH need some more practice…until they can feign interest and excitement. That should be a rule. 🙂
The social skills of a gnat? Nah, he’s just a relatively typical male. 😉