They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but I can also say that I word is worth a thousand pictures. The sum of the pictures is a story, and there is a story behind each of the words that Boo Boo has begun to say.
Take CHEERS, for instance.
Jer-bear and I don’t drink very much. That all changes when we go on vacation. When we were out west we sampled ciders and roses in Portland, cocktails in LA and dinner wasn’t complete in either place without wine. When we got to California my youngest sister, an actress who also spent a lot of time as a nanny, would also make sure to share a toast with Boo Boo, clinking his sippy cup with her wine classes.
“Cheers!” She said to him.
At first he’d just smile back. That’s his MO.When in doubt, smile. But after a week he started picking up his sippy cup, ready to clink it against Beanie’s glass when she said the magic word.
“Cheers!” He said it with a confidence and aplomb that was slightly unsettling for me–perhaps it was an uneasiness akin to what parents of college students feel if they ever witness their child perform an effortless keg stand or throw back a shot.
When we left the west coast, we figured Boo Boo’s new vocabulary would stay behind also.
A full week had passed when we had a late lunch at an Ethiopian restaurant with some friends who have a baby Boo Boo’s age. After deliberation (was it too early? Would red wine work with injera?), we each ordered a glass of wine.
The babies had spent most of the meal thus far examining the physical qualities of the menu: what it sounded like if you banged it on the table, what happened if you fold it, what it smelled like. They also had fun playing with the cloth napkins, and competing to see who could drum on the table the loudest until the delicate clunk of glass on wood announced the arrival of the wine. Boo Boo looked up from his menu and when he saw the wine on the table, promptly grabbed his sippy cup.
“Cheers!” He said as he held it aloft.
All grown-ups in hearing distance turned to my son and laughed, except for me, who wondered if these people were wondering how a toddler can offer a toast with such alacrity. What might they be thinking?
Does his mother always drink in front of him?
What exactly is in that sippy cup?
Can he say ‘puff puff pass,’ too?
But then I thought of how he grasped the meaning of the word perfectly, used it in the perfect context, and said it with perfect pronunciation.
I was one proud mother.
Please Don't Lick the Taxi 
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