So, Weston is into a lot of things: guitars, brooms, guitar-brooms, shovels, shovel-guitars, hot dogs, backhoes, trains, motorcycle spotting, garbage trucks, backseat driving, matchbox cars, lacrosse, free-style Old MacDonald-based mash-ups, vacuuming, chugging juice, teeny tiny grapes...AND, lately, dinosaurs.
Actually this stems from a television show that Weston has recently taken a liking to called "Dinosaur Train", a show combining two themes of--you guessed it!--belly dancing and professional badminton.
So, on a recent trip to a bookstore, we headed over to the children's section to find a new book when Weston spied a small stuffed dinosaur that he wanted to "hold." Which means "buy for me to have." So, I let him "hold" it.
When we got home, I asked Weston what his new dinosaur's name was. We got stuck in a bit of a conversation loop, and rather than try and explain it here, let's go directly to the transcript:
Rob: What's your dinosaur's name?
Weston: No, I wanna watch "Dinosaur Train"!
Rob: OK. But what is your dinosaur's name?
Weston: What is the dinosaur's name...?
Rob: Tell me his name.
Weston: Tell me his name...?
Rob: No, you tell me his name.
Weston: Tell me his name...?
Rob: No, you, Weston, you tell me what your dinosaur's name is.
Weston: Dinosaur name...
Rob: Yes...?
Weston: His name is... Mawt.
Rob: Mott?
Weston: Maught.
Rob: His name is "Mott"?
Weston: Ummm, yep.
Television man is crazy saying
we're juvenile delinquent wrecks
Man, I need tv when I got T. Rex
1 comment:
Your boy knows Mott the Hoople? Awesomesauce!
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