Sometimes, three-year-olds say the darndest things. And so it is with my kiddo. Here is the latest installment of the strange and the sublime things that come out of Noah’s mouth:
“It’s No-Ahhh. Not No-Wahhh (cough, cough). The H is silent.” — If you ask Noah how to pronounce his name, he can give perfect enunciation. “I guess they gone get married and have a family.” — Noah saw a man and a woman hugging the other day – they could have been just friends, or relatives — but that embrace had Noah thinking about Holy Matrimony.
“But sometimes, when you talk, you take too long and I’m afraid that I’m going to forget what I have to say.” — Noah has a tendency to interrupt you when you are talking. I admonished him a little the other day and he let out this perfect explanation.
I posted in last week’s version of “Noahspeaks” that my three-year-old could read a book (and that he liked girls). The authors who put out Bob Books have a brilliant product for little readers. Think Cat in the Hat on steroids (and I mean that in a nice way.) Bob Books has five sets of books, from beginning readers on up and each of these books build on each other.
Anyway, late last week, one of the book’s writers/employees/publishers left this nice surprise in my inbox:
A colleague recently sent me the link to your lovely blog post about your son reading (and liking girls). We really enjoyed the video and would like to share it with others in the Bob Books community.
Would you mind if we posted the link to the video on our website? You can see that we have similar stories from other families sharing their kids’ experiences with Bob Books. We would also link to your blog post if you were comfortable with that.
Thanks and congratulations on your new reader!
How proud can a dad be? Very proud isn’t proud enough.
This isn’t the first time Noah has wound up as somebody’s coverboy. Last March, Noah and his mother went to a school allergy rally at the state capitol. Noah, who has severe allergies to peanuts, dairy, and eggs, looked like a little politician holding a sign that said, “My name is Noah. Keep me safe in school!”
Well, one of the lawmakers at the rally, State-Rep Dan Branch, saw Noah and told one of his staffers he wanted a picture. After getting the OK, from Nancy (Noah’s mother), Noah and Branch grinned for the cameras.
Me: “Noah, last week you had Megan’s name written down. Today, it’s Reagan. What’s up?”
Noah: “Well, now, I like Reagan. She’s fantastic. She’s adorable.’
Me to his mother: “It looks like Noah likes girls.”
Noah’s mother to both of us: “Noah, its ok if you think boys are adorable too. Don’t you have some adorable boy friends?”
Noah: “Mama, boys are not adorable. Only girls are.”
Noah’s mother: “You mean none of the boys you play with are adorable. Not even Benjamin.”
Noah: “No mama, Benjamin is a boy. He is not as adorable as Reagan.”
Before I left, Noah wanted to show me how good a reader he was becoming. His mother bought him a set of Bob’s Books for beginning readers. (They even have a cool blog.) He sat on his mother’s couch, opened up one of the books (Dot and a Dog) and started reading. I quickly grabbed my iPhone and started recording:
A conversation I had with my three-year-old son Saturday:
Noah: Daddy, my skin is light, momma’s skin is light, Nanna’s skin is light and everybody else’s skin in the family is light. But yours isn’t. Why are you dark-skinned and not like everyone else?
Me: Well, son, God made me different. Why do you ask? Did someone say something to you about me?
Noah: No one said something. I can see it myself, I can see it real good. But with me being light, its like I’m camouflaged, and so when we play and hide and seek, you can’t find me.
Me: Camouflaged? Ok. Well, how does it make you feel, my dark skin I mean.
Noah: Glad. I know its okay that we’re different.
And with that, we were off for the rest of our day of fun.
I’m sure, as Noah gets older, we’ll no doubt have more conversations about race. With me being black and his mother being Hispanic, the racial narrative of Noah’s life may be somewhat different. (And on a side note, he’ll probably have better luck than I at finding someone to cut his hair.) I know what its like to be black and his mother knows what its like to be Hispanic. But neither of us are interracial. Still, whatever and whenever we have a deeper talk about the matter, I’ll tell him this: “Treat people the way you want to be treated, regardless of their skin color.” and “If you work your butt off, you can be a success in life no matter what you look like.”
Seriously, my 3-year-old son makes me play the Biscuit Brothers each time we are in my car, or when we are at home on my DVD player. A week or so ago, when this little diddy popped up on the TV, Noah jumped off the couch and started dancing. I got the video on my new iPhone 4: