I had an appointment with a nutritionist at my naturopath’s office yesterday. I took Griffin (four and a third years old) with me. He was sure he wouldn’t need his little bag of cars to entertain himself. Big mistake. I should have insisted, because during the whole appointment he was whiny, needy, and just generally demanding that the focus should really be on him and not what I actually went there for — to get some nutritional counselling from this nutritionist. Oy vey.
As I’m standing at the reception desk, trying to book a follow up appointment, there’s a small Halloween pumpkin on the desk, that’s unfortunately much too easy for him to grab. Repeatedly. Despite my several requests to return the pumpkin to its resting place. Then at one point, he holds the pumpkin up to his ear like a phone and sings a little tune:
I’m talkin’ on a punkin. I’m talkin’ on a punkin. Yeah!
We do eventually leave (without the pumpkin) but he continues to sing his little chorus complete with little jumps and arm gestures on the “Yeah!” part of the song.
It was a lovely little glimpse into the mind of a child.