When I’m sitting in front of a slice of cheesecake from Katzinger’s Deli, I don’t generally talk to other people. Who has time for that when there is cheesecake on the line?
Nevertheless, I almost said something to the husband and wife who sat down at the table next to us with their college-age daughter.
Ethan made sure I didn’t have to speak up. He made my point for me.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA EEEEEEEEEEEEE,” he bellowed as he pounded his paper cup into the table.
The cup flew off the table on one particularly vicious strike, and it flopped by the feet of the man like a fish out of water. He picked it up and handed it back to Ethan. I prayed that they would remember what it was like to have a kid this age and that they wouldn’t mind having their meal interrupted with Ethan jawing, “Ya ya ya ya ya ya. Da da da da da da da. Na na na na na na na na. Imph. Imph. Da da da da.”
We ate our cheesecakes in relative peace by passing him spoons and cups to gnaw and pound on the table.
During the drive home, Julie remarked to me, “We are now the loud family.”
Our friends visited the other day with their kids who are all younger than eight years old, and the amount of noise they created was beyond all expectations. Granted, they were ecstatic that our rabbits were hopping around the living room with them. However, Ethan had no trouble adding to the noise.
More often than not, he drowned them out as he banged his wooden balls and wooden mallet on the coffee table. He squealed and screamed. He fit right in.
It used to be that Ethan was either quiet or crying. Now he can shout, laugh, roll his R’s, make motor boat sounds with his lips, babble, and talk a little. He can say Da da and Ma ma when he’s looking at each of us. He can say something that resembles “light” when he sees a light.
He can also say “No” like a pro when we try to feed him solid food.
It’s not that we didn’t expect to have a child capable of making noise. It’s just that it creeps up on you. You don’t really notice that it’s coming. You just take one day at a time.
One friend likened it to a frog in a pot that gradually grows hotter.
A year ago we had a newborn who rocked in his swing and only made a peep when he needed something. Now we have a budding conversationalist. He’s starting to tell us what he thinks about things, and I don’t think he’ll ever stop.