Aaaaah

I took over kid duty Saturday so Diana could take two steps away from insanity. Elijah was surprisingly well behaved. If I could’ve written down the mental gymnastics it took to get him to actually take a nap, I’d be well on my way to a best selling book.

So I had a couple hours of just me and Luca hanging out. Thinking he was asleep, I went to the office to re-read the most hilarious HamannEggs entries. All two of them. From the kitchen, I heard, “Aaaaah! Aaaaah!!”

Thinking he was crying, I ran in to comfort him. But he wasn’t upset in the least. Sometime over the course of the last few hours, Luca had found his voice. “Aaaaah! Aaaaah!” He was simply trying out the new instrument. Aaaaah! Aaaaah!

So I started talking back, “Aaaaah! Aaaaah!” And we began to have, in Luca’s mind at least, a hilarious conversation. He’d say, “Aaaaah!” Then I’d say, “Aaaaah!” And then Luca would smile a big smile and laugh. And then I’d summon all my strength not to burst into tears.

I could literally have done that for the next twenty years of my life. But then I saw it. The booger. Luca had what my old creative director called “A bear in the cave.”

While Luca was engaged in his call and response, he was breathing rapidly through his nose. And his little booger friend kept poking in and out of his nostril.

It didn’t bother him. But I began to want, no need, to get it. So in the midst of our “Aaaaah! Aaaaah!” I sat perched with my fingers in a tweeze shape, ready to strike. But despite the fact that Luca was breathing regularly, his little friend poked his head out irregularly.

So our conversation went thus:

Luca would say, “Aaaaah!” I’d say, “Aaaaah!” Followed by, “Damn it!”

Eventually, a sleepy-headed Eli padded in. So our conversation took on a third element.

Luca would say, “Aaaaah!” I’d say, “Aaaaah!” Eli would say, “Aaaaah!” I’d say, “Damn it!” Luca and Eli would laugh.