This has been a pretty dismal virus season here in Casa Bradstein. We’re batting .000–or 1.000, depending on how you look at it, I suppose–with all of us going down with a cold sometime in the last month. Fortunately, Mama and I tag-teamed it, so now that I’m on the mend and can perform feats like staying up past 7:00 p.m., she can crash out as soon as 3B goes down for the night.
All this snotting and snuffling has led to a marked decrease in hands-on time with the boy since we’re too tired to pick him up and we don’t want to do all our snorking and hacking right in his face. This has led to an increase in self-directed play time on his mat or in in his Casino Royale while we engage in self-directed veg-out time on the couch.
It’s actually rather soothing to drift along the bottom of consciousness that borders the engulfing depths of exhausted-by-sickness slumber, sort of like a flounder flipping and sliding along the edge of the Marianas Trench (Google it yourself, you knob). In that blissed out state, it’s possible to hear familiar sounds anew, like all of the 4,236 songs that Casino Royale is capable of reproducing in techno tones that make them all sound like high-tech doorbell rings.
But the Casino is also a modern toy–both aggressive and friendly in its efforts to ensure our five-month old baby a place at the top of his class at Stanford. The aggressive is obvious when a female cheerily hollers “Learning is fun!” The friendly comes when she’s introducing 3B to the animal kingdom with phrases like, “The bee goes . . .” which is followed by a buzzing sound. Or, “The fish goes . . .” which is followed by a sound that sounds rather unfortunately like a toilet flushing three times. I suppose that is where many fish go . . . but waitaminnit . . . doesn’t she mean to say that “The bee says bzzz”? Or that “The fish says flush, flush, flush (or whatever)”?
I know that in the vernacular many of us have replaced “says” with “goes,” but must our pseudo-educational toys start our children off that way? And how far astray will they go?
“The bee is all, ‘Bzz.'”
“The fish is like, ‘Flush, flush, flush.'”
“The dog was totally, ‘Bow wow.’ What. Ever.”
I know that complaining about this makes me a curmudgeonly dad, but dude, it’s like so not cool if 3B starts out talking like that. My fail-safe plan, if that does come to pass, is to ship him off for intensive Zygote Daddy–MetroDad grammar camp.
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