It’s no wonder they get irritated

The Hatchling is at that point where her vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds (like, 4-5 new words a day, lately), but her pronunciation is lagging a little behind. Most of the time I can figure out what she’s trying to say from context, and she’s remarkably good natured when we can’t understand her, but I’m sure she occasionally wonders why we’re so stupid. Take, for example, last night. As a special treat, we’re watching some Noggin before she goes to bed, and they’re showing an episode of the Backyardigans, a show she hasn’t seen in a while. I’m showing off my knowledge of the character names to Mr. Squab (because I’m awesome like that) when the Hatchling starts pointing in the direction of the TV and saying “Bugga.”

The Hatchling: Bugga.

Mr. Squab (to me): What’s that mean?

Me: I have no idea.

The Hatchling: Bugga.

Mr. Squab: Bug?

The Hatchling: Bugga.

Mr. Squab: Bugger?

The Hatchling: BUGga.

Mr. Squab: Booger?

The Hatchling: BUGGA. Bugga. Bugga!

Stumped, we redirect her attention to something in the show. About five minutes later, a little light goes on over my head.

Me: Boo-boo, were you saying Backyardigans?

The Hatchling (looking at me, like, DUH): Yah. Bugga.

Really, she’s very patient with us.

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