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talking
Posts

  • Waiting For Your Turn To Talk

    Sometimes I find myself in conversations wondering, “when are we going to get back to my favorite topic? Me.” I love talking about Toni. Talking about Toni is the most interesting thing I do. I can’t get enough of it. If you want to talk about me, I will never tire of it. If you’re interested in what Toni thinks about this or that, then I will pull up a chair. But you know what gets exhausting? Talking about you.

    As humans we are obsessed with ourselves. We find ourselves infinitely fascinating, and tend to favor our own opinions over others. Most of the time when we are relating to others, we are just waiting for our turn to talk.

    But guess what? NOBODY LIKES THAT!

    Even though we all want to compulsively talk about ourselves, our thoughts, our visions, and our complaints – it is seriously irritating when you notice other people being that way. You can feel the energy of them not listening. Their eyes are distracted, and its painfully obvious how they’re desperately trying to remember what it is they want to say. Their impatience is palpable. So you just trail off, knowing they will jump in to perform a 15-minute monologue. It is one of the most off-putting behaviors when someone talks at you endlessly, giving you the feeling that you substitute yourself with a cardboard cutout, and take off for an hour to go through Instagram filters.

    It doesn’t matter how interesting, compelling, or charismatic they are. It’s draining to have a conversation with someone that’s actually performing a one-way soliloquy. It leaves me feeling like an insignificant audience member drowned by the shadows, merely the facilitator for the proper reaction. Insert laugh here, tears there, and an “awwwwwww” at the end to wrap it up.

    Genuinely listening to others is a very attractive quality. Asking questions about their lives, remembering things they say, keeping their cast of characters fresh in your mind… this will endear you to people. If you can make someone feel heard, you will also make them feel seen, which in turn will make them feel important to you.

    So why is this so hard?

    There is an art to dialogue that is simply no longer taught or prioritized. Back in the times of ancient Greece, dialogue was the ultimate conveyer of knowledge. Socrates feared the influence of the written word because he believed that medium would destroy dialogue. He felt books are too easily misinterpreted because you can’t openly discuss your reactions with the author of the ideas you just plowed into your head. Socrates rejected writing because his worldview was predicated on the idea that best way into a genuine inquiry of philosophy was through live conversation.

    Yet how ironic is it that the only reason we know the dialogues of Socrates is because Plato wrote them down!

    Oral traditions were more exclusive with knowledge because you had to have heard the information from someone’s mouth. Where the written word can be massed produced and mass marketed. Yet does distributing information on a wide scale dilute it? On the one hand it’s fantastic anyone can have access to the vast library of human knowledge, but the criteria for who is talking has been democratized to the point where there are no longer any standards. You don’t need a PHD to create a website, you just need an IP address.

    If you think about the current manifestation of this, the Internet is so flush with information and words that you can prove anything you want. You can look up sites that say GMO’s are bad, and you can look up sites that tell you GMO’s are great. You can prove anything you want to yourself, because everyone’s goddamn opinion is posted on line to justify your thinking.

    On a personal level, this loss of dialogue has affected us even deeper. Although I enjoy reading and writing, it can be said that the modern manifestation of texting our feelings through emoji hints to the prophetic nature of Socrates’ thoughts. We would rather email someone to tell them off, then have the actual human interaction of working through conflict. How many of you have received an email from a friend/family member/lover that is just a diatribe of all they things they don’t like about you? And how have you received that? Have you ever been like, “wow, this scathing email attacking my personality really makes me think?”

    No! You usually write a contemptuous message back, and a strange cycle begins where your egos battle through this platform of screens. It is really hard to come back from these things, and usually the only way to find peace is through initiating personal contact. It is easy to hide behind screens and words rather then the complexity of face-to-face contact. That is why trolling has become such a social phenomenon. Yet we don’t only troll strangers in the dark web, we also often troll each other with the refusal of committing to direct communication.

    I think it’s crucial in these times where we are constantly being seduced by our slutty phones to work on the craft of conversation. To not text while talking, or hurry someone along so we can make our point. The best thing we can do for each other and our own psyches is learn how to be totally engaged. You know that feeling when you are talking to someone, and they are really interested in what you are saying? They are giving you their energy of paying attention. Then you pass the baton and are just as excited to hear the words that come out of their mouth. Isn’t that such a life affirming experience?

    Let’s do more of that!

    So next time you are talking to someone, a friend, someone serving you at a store, where ever you are… act like you sincerely give a shit. And I bet once you start genuinely listening, you may actually start genuinely giving a shit, which will inspire them to give a shit, and then maybe the robots won’t take over after all.

    March 23, 2017 • emotions, Musings, Relationships, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 609

  • You Really Shouldn’t Fucking Swear

    Swearing is not good and shit. It is considered offensive, rude, and inappropriate. There is never a circumstance that truly justifies it, and it reflects poorly on your character. One should recognize that the language you use represents how people perceive you, and as a dignified member of society you should avoid vulgarities at all costs. Since I am a parent, it is pivotal I imprint these values onto my daughter so she can grow into a being a respectable lady.

    Yet hearing my kid swear is funny as fuck.

    Okay fine. I am not proud of the fact that I SOMETIMES swear in front of my child. It is not that I swear at her! I just on occasion swear around her. As a consequence, The Munch has been exposed to my potty mouth, even though I REALLY TRY to wipe it clean.

    So the other day I made The Munch a grilled ham and cheese sandwich for dinner, which she brought to my office to eat while watching Japanese cartoons. Uggggggggghhhh…. I really don’t like admitting this context ☹ I usually don’t let my kid watch shows and eat. It is bad for digestion, a terrible habit, unsocial, and most importantly dangerous for my computer – crumbs in my keyboard are a nightmare. But I was having a super PMS moment and pretty much couldn’t deal with existence. All I was capable of was staring at a door and wondering if it opened into a parallel universe where I was a mermaid.

    Munch then came into the kitchen asking for more dinner…

    Munch: Mom, can you make me another grilled cheese sammich?
    Toni: Whoa! Did you eat the whole thing! Wow! Good for you.
    Munch: Well, I didn’t exactly get to eat the whole thing. I dropped half of it on the ground, and then Mona (our dog) ate it.
    Toni: Oh no! Mona at your sammich? That is terrible.
    Munch: Yeah. Fucking Mona.

    And then, all was right in the cosmos and life had meaning again. Not only did Munch use “fucking” in the right context, but her cadence was hilarious. She wasn’t angry, or upset – her tone just perfectly articulated how anyone would feel after a beloved pet ate their delicious sammich. Fucking Mona is right.

    fucking-mona-blog-(i)

    August 1, 2014 • 4 years old, Behavior, Parenting, Talking and Not Talking, Toddler Thoughts • Views: 1635

  • Do You Really Listen?

    It is really hard to listen to people. We hear the words that come out of face holes, but to truly listen to what someone needs is difficult. Even when we think we are paying attention to what someone is saying, it doesn’t inherently mean that we understand where they are coming from.

    Communication is the most common theme of relationship problems. We are all clouded by subjectivity, so during conversations we tend to focus on our own opinions more than the other person’s. Yet when you exist under this lens of “how do your wants affect me and my wants?” it is impossible to actually connect to the desires of the other person.

    It is challenging to clear your mind of yourself because the self is so persistently chatting in your head. The ego is as relentless as virgin at a porn convention – it just can’t get enough stimulation. The challenge then becomes how to have meaningful conversations with people where you are actually listening to each other and honoring the varying perspectives.

    As a parent it is really easy to bulldoze over your child’s wishes and ignore the substance of what they are trying to ask for. For one, the way they ask is sometimes annoying as fuck. Kids will whine/stomp/yell/cry/hit if you don’t agree with them, and their compromising skills are still being developed. Their discontent can feel tyrannical because they have no patience to explain their perspective. They also often want things that are fucking outrageous. The Munch will feel totally justified to scream and kick the floor because I won’t build her a candy house. Since kids so often approach you in this irrational hyper-emotional way, it is easy to forget that sometimes their requests are totally reasonable.

    The Munch had her birthday the other day, and she wanted to watch Cinderella while I made her breakfast. I never let her watch things in the morning, but figured it was her birthday, so why not make a special occasion. Yet while she was watching Cinderella she was thirsty and wanted some water.

    Munch: Mamma, can you get me some water?
    Toni: Sure.
    Munch: With a straw?
    Toni: Oaky fine. Here you go. But you have to drink it here in the kitchen.
    Munch: But I am watching Cinderella…
    Toni: Yeah but I don’t want you to have a cup of water next to my computer because it could spill.
    Munch: But I will be really careful. I don’t spill it.
    Toni: I know you will be careful, but accidents happen. If you spilled water on my computer you would ruin my computer and Apple care wouldn’t fix it. I can’t let take that risk. My computer is my life, as pathetic as that is.
    Munch: But Mom I am really thirsty! It is so hot outside!!!
    Toni: Well just pause Cinderella and come get water when you want it!
    Munch: But then I will just have to keep coming into the kitchen.
    Toni: Okay, I have an idea. Come. Let’s bring the water into my office, and I will pur the water here. On the table over here.
    Munch: But I still have to keep getting up!
    Toni: Dude… you have to get up, but you are in the same room?
    Munch: Mom I just want to have the water next to me!! Wahhhaaaahhhhaaaa
    Toni: Okay, you are not listening. No more Cinderella.

    I took the computer away, and of course The Munch started to cry. I felt bad because it was her birthday and hot as balls. I could understand being thirsty and not wanting to get up, but I also really didn’t want a cup of water next to my reason for living…. Uh, I mean just a meaningless piece of technology.

    Munch: Wahhhaaaahhaaaa!!
    Toni: Munch, come here. Lets have a cuddle and talk.
    Munch: Mamma, I really want to watch Cinderella.
    Toni: I hear you. But I really don’t want water that could be spilled next to my computer. It is expensive and important to me.
    Munch: But I wasn’t going to spill it and I really didn’t want to get up that many times because then I would miss Cinderella and I would get even more sweaty!
    Toni: Wait a minute…. I have a solution. We could get one of your water bottles with a straw, and then you could have the water bottle next to you, drink from a straw, but I wouldn’t have to be nervous about my computer!
    Munch: Yayyyyyy!

    The solution was obvious, but I wasn’t thinking of one because I was being narrow-minded in my own logic. I knew what I didn’t want, and that felt more important than what Munch wanted. Yet when I took a minute to really listen to her, we came up with a resolution that fit both of our needs.

    listening-blog-(i)

  • My Daughter The Dictator

    My kid is one bossy bitc….uhhhhh person.  I think she was a dictator in her past life… and by past life I mean this one.

    The Munch has an opinion on just about everything.  She has to choose her outfit every day, and gods forbid I try to slip on Minnie Mouse underpants when she wants Daisy Duck.  The Munch even tries to command what I should wear and whether or not I can roll up my sleeves.

    Maybe you are thinking that she is just really into fashion but getting dressed is just the first activity of the day.  It goes on from there into every facet of our existence.

    Munch: “Mamma, are you going to eat some oatmeal like me?”

    Toni: “No Munch I am fine for now. I am going to have some water first.”

    Munch: “No Mamma, have some oatmeal.”

    Toni: “Munch I am okay. I am just thirsty right now.”

    Munch: “NO MAMMA HAVE SOME OATMEAL!! HAVE A BITE!!”

    Toni: “Okay okay…” (So I pretend to take a bite and kind of fake her out… or so I think)

    Munch: “Are you eating it?”

    Toni: “Yes!”

    Munch: “You are chewing it all up?”

    Toni: “Yes Munch.” (I am still pretending to be eating the oatmeal)

    Munch: “OPEN YOUR MOUTH! LET ME SEE!!!!”

    Sometimes I take The Munch for a bike ride where she sits in this carrier I drag behind me.  As I am sweating like a whore in church trying to get up the hill, towing my princess in her chariot, The Munch starts shouting orders and conducting how I ride.

    Munch: “Mamma, go faster up the hill.  Faster.  But don’t stand up! Sit back down!! Put your bum back on the seat okay? Sit down but go faster.  Now Mamma, go slower down the hill.”

    The other day my brother came over and was chilly.  I offered to get him a sweatshirt, but the Munch wouldn’t let me give him one.

    Munch: “NO MAMMA NO!! THAT IS YOUR SWEATSHIRT!!”

    Toni: “But your uncle Laszlo is cold and he wants to borrow it.  Do you want him to be cold?”

    Munch: “YES!!! I do want him to be cold!”

    There are times when we will be sitting and cuddling, and The Munch will start orchestrating exactly how I position my body and hold her.

    Munch: “No Mamma, don’t cross your leg.  Put your foot here.  Don’t let your head be floppy! Put it on the pillow. But not that pillow, that’s my pillow.  And hold me this way! Don’t hold my legs. Now tickle my back!”

    Although having someone try to choreograph your every move is exhausting, I also respect The Munch’s leadership skills.  Maybe she is prepping to be a politician, or CEO one of these days?  But a politician who isn’t corrupt and greedy (but can totally have sex scandals) or a CEO for an organic-free range-fair trade-sustainable-eco aware-non toxic company of course.

    (My lady in her chariot)

    my-daughter-dictator-blog-(i)

     

     

     

  • I Need My Space… But Wait, Don’t Go Away!

    Remember being a kid and getting into fights with your friends?  It always felt like it was the biggest deal.  My world was over if someone was mad at me, or I felt like my friends at school were turning on me.  I would pretend to be sick just to avoid dealing with the idea that people didn’t like me.  Is it just me, or was childhood filled with a lot of social anxiety?

    I think part of that stress was because when you are young, you lack the perspective of foresight.  Knowing that these things happen, and eventually you will either make up, or grow apart.  Its not like you are going to die just because someone is mad at you or doesn’t want to be your friend.

    It is so easy to give people power, because it is so hard to remember that their opinion of you doesn’t have to be your opinion of you.

    Fighting with people is part of the being in relationships, but it is still stressful and something I try to avoid.  When I do go there, I have come to realize an important strategy.  Don’t talk when you are still mad.

    When you get angry with me that usually makes me get angry at you.  I get pissed because you are pissed.  Two people being pissy, it is a recipe for an argument that goes in circles.  You tell me how I suck, then I tell you how you suck.  You say I am shitty, and I tell you that I am shitty because I am reacting to your shit.

    If I am mad or frustrated, I am not listening to you.  I don’t even really want to move on, be empathetic, or forgive.  It is like I am stuck inside the mouth of a lion, and I don’t want to be there, but keep feeding into it.

    If I have time to let things breathe, and think it through on my own, I am so much more capable of approaching things with an open heart.  And when I am open to move forward, the conversation is much more productive.

    I try to apply this logic when dealing with The Munch… but it has proven to be quite challenging.  Especially considering she is way more relentless than the average person, and for me to take my space and leave her in the house to go weep in the woods and drink a pint of whiskey would be considered bad parenting.

    Munch: “No Mamma I don’t want to wear that dress I want to wear my birthday dress!”

    Toni: “Well, you have been wearing that dress for about 6 days straight and I put in in the laundry to clean it.”

    Munch: “But I want to wear my birthday dress!!!!”

    Toni: “Munch, its is really gross and dirty and needs to get clean.  So its in the laundry.  I will wash it tonight and you can wear it tomrrow.”

    Munch: “I WANT TO WEAR MY BIRTHDAY DRESS!! GET IT OUT OF THE LAUNDRY SO I CAN WEAR IT TODAY!!”

    Toni: “Dude, no.  That is insane.  Your dress is cruddy and gross and has stains all over it.”

    Munch: “MAMMA NO!! GET IT FROM THE LAUNDRY I WANT TO WEAR MY BIRTHDAY DRESS!!!!!!!!”

    So this is the part where I think it would be best for me to exit the conversation and take a moment.  To think things through and contemplate how best to explain that wearing a dress that has scuzz all over it is really yucky and eww.  And The Munch would take the time to see my point.  That perhaps she could wear something fucking else.  But instead we are both in each other’s faces because I am supposed to watch her and make sure she is alive all the time.

    Toni: “Fine.  Wear you stupid dress I don’t care.”

    Munch: “Thank you Mamma, I love you.”

    i-need-space-blog-(i)

     

  • Parents Can Be Really Annoying

    Parents can be really annoying.  I know everyone has their own style, and who am I to judge really, but sometimes I do anyway.  And do you want to know why? Because I fucking can that is why.

    Yesterday The Munch and I went to the beach because she wanted to go swimming.  Forget that the lake was ice 3 weeks ago.  The Munch has no concept of time and as far as she is concerned its summer.  I figured she doesn’t have balls that are going to get all small and silly looking, so why not swim in 50-degree water.

    At first we are the only ones there. Her little naked body skittering across the sand like a crab.  It was a peaceful scene.  I felt like the animals weren’t disturbed by our presence.  The trees embraced us with their shadows.  We weren’t interfering with the Zen of place.

    Then this father came with his two sons.  At first I thought it might be fun and The Munch would have others to frolic with, but the dad instantly got really annoying.  He would not stop barking orders at his kids.

    “Josiah! Josiah! Don’t climb up there.  That’s not yours.  Come down and get in the water.  No. Noah! Don’t go over to those swings.  We have crap like that at home.  Get in the water.  We came here to play in the water.  Josiah!! Josiah!! GET OUT OF THAT BOAT! Don’t sit in there.  Noah quit it! Don’t go on those docks. Josiah, stop poking at the sand like that.  NOAH! I told you to get in the water.  We have a slide at home.”

    All the meanwhile he was on his phone emailing! Now I am all for entertaining yourself with your phone when your kids are boring you, but then pay attention to your dumb phone.  If I am on my phone looking at Facebook do you think I give a flying fuck in a rolling doughnut if my kid is sitting in a docked boat that safely nestled on the sand and is pretending to drive it?  Not at all.  As long as you are not bothering me, I am not going to bother you.

    Of course I didn’t know these kids, and maybe they are total terrors and extremely destructive – but there really wasn’t much you could have damaged.  It’s not like they were going to tear down the swing set with their bare hands and crap in the sandbox.  They were just having fun.  I really didn’t get why the dad had to micromanage and dictate their every move.  Rather than spending all that energy yelling at them how to play, he could have just played with them.  Or hung out on his phone and be preoccupied with that.  I would have so much rather heard the noises of children enjoying their time then some 40 year old man screaming at them.

    And you know what? The kids, although rambunctious were perfectly nice humans.  The older one even came up to talk to The Munch and me:

    Josiah: “Did you know I was at my uncle’s house today?”

    Toni: “No actually I didn’t.

    Josiah: “Yeah. My cousins were there.  I have one cousin Mark who is 11, and he has brown hair.  Then another cousin Kevin ,who is 8 and his pants got really dirty.  Then Lydia who is 9 but I don’t really talk to her that much. I am 5.  Then my dad came and got us.  But I am pretty sure my uncle stayed at home.  Because he didn’t come with us.  I actually don’t know where he is now.”

    Then the dad came up and said, “Watch out.  He can talk your ear off all day.” And I was like … ummmmm he is sitting right there dude.  He can hear you.  Fine this wasn’t the best story I ever heard, but now I know all about this kid’s uncle and cousins so there wasn’t nothing gained.  The dad didn’t have to put down his kid because his son chatting to me embarrassed him.  He should have been embarrassed by his behavior of being a bossy prick for the past half hour.  I would talk to Josiah all day about dirty pants brown hair, Mark, Kevin, Lydia, and this absentee uncle if it meant you would shut the fuck up dad.

    parents-annoying-blog-(i)

    May 8, 2013 • 2 years old, Adventures, Behavior, Disciplining, Musings, Parenting • Views: 1338

  • Women Be Communicating and Shit

    It is a common cliché that women are always wanting to talk about their emotions, but I feel like that is really unfair because that assumption makes me feel condescended towards and that makes me feel angry which makes me feel vulnerable because I am feeling like my feelings are not taken seriously, so then I feel like the whole stereotype is not only exaggerated but I also feel like it is not making me feel good.

    So… this weekend I went to a Kundalini woman’s circle to explore the idea of communication and talk about our feelings about it!

    The yoga teacher starting off by describing how 80% of communication is nonverbal – your body language, tone of voice, and even the way you present yourself all vastly contribute to the way you are perceived.  She went on to explain why it is really important to dress in a way that represents your true essence and soul – with grace and beauty to reflect your true self.  I thought about this point deeply, and then looked down at my shirt that read “don’t be a douche.”  Yup.  Looks like I am on the right path.

    She then starting talking about the importance of diplomacy, how that is a natural skill of women, but we have to be careful not to fall into the propensity of manipulation.  This really made me think.  What exactly is the difference between manipulation and diplomacy?

    On a micro level, they are both using tactics to persuade another to do what you want.  Is it the intention behind the coaxing that makes one more benign than another?  There are so many little ways women are taught to be manipulative, but it is a mostly innocent.  Flirting with a cop to get out of a speeding ticket, or coyly asking for help for someone to carry your suitcases.  Women use their sexuality as a means of manipulation but sometimes that is because it feels like a convenient weapon to use against those who have power over you.

    But on the macro level, comparing diplomacy and manipulation has much greater ramifications.  It isn’t like world leaders are harmlessly batting their eyes in the hopes for peace in Kashmir.  Most political discourse is manipulative rather than diplomatic, yet that has become a societal standard.  It’s hard to commit to the authenticity of diplomacy when the tactic of manipulation is not only effective, but also a cultural norm.  I think men and women often rely on their powers of manipulation because it is the easiest way to get what you want.

    Although women often fall back on the strategy of using sex appeal to manipulate men, in truth, it is only a superficial tactic.  You aren’t really being respected in those moments, but distracting them momentarily by the butt on your back or front.  In order to truly get long-term admiration you have to conduct yourself through the nobility of your soul.

    We then went on to do this meditation where we had to look at the tip of our nose and say a mantra 10,000 bagillion times.  And you know what came up for me? That I hated that stupid mantra, and I hated communicating, and hated a whole bunch of other shit too.  The entire time I was supposed to be one with all things sacred and holy while unlocking the secrets of communicating through my highest-self all I could think was “I fucking hate this shit.”

    So I think I am well on my way, what about you!! Check out my shirt! Don’t be a douche!!!!

    women-be-communicating-blog-(i)

  • Don’t Tell Me What To Do!

    No one likes to be told what to do.  Whenever someone tells me to do something, my first reaction is to do the opposite.  Probably why I always end up getting into trouble.  “Toni, don’t touch that bat, it carries diseases” well… not if you are wearing a condom.

    When you have a kid you are constantly telling them what to do, and sometimes they listen, and sometimes they are like “go fuck yourself.”  I can’t blame The Munch for not wanting to succumb to all of my demands.  Even though I am way smarter, and the majority of my requests are not only sensible but for her benefit, she will undoubtedly rebel.

    Sometimes I can anticipate here revolt, and sometimes she catches me totally off guard.  Her uprising against my logic can throw me off my game and confuse me.  Maybe she is right and I am being unreasonable? Does she really need to pee before taking a nap?  Should I risk the chance she urinates in my bed?  And then an hour later while ripping the sheets of my mattress I wonder why I let myself be manipulated by her mutiny.

    The insurgence of a toddler is intimidating.  It is never just “no thank you Mamma, I would rather not leave the park now.” If The Munch is pissed and doesn’t want to do something, I better get ready for battle.

    But now I have this new strategy.  You know how you might take a toy and talk as the toy’s voice to play with a kid right? And be like “Hey, its me.  Bear.  You want to smell my fart?” to make them laugh.  Well my friend Sarah told me, “just have the toys tell her to do things that she doesn’t want to do. If it’s coming from the toy, rather than you, she will do it.”

    Fuck yeah she will.  Even though my toy voice is undoubtedly creepy and out of a Stephen King movie, this method totally works!  I guess things are way more annoying coming out of my mouth… but when coming from her owl – no problem!  So for all you future boyfriends of the Munch, if she is not listening to you, just grab a stuffed animal and let them to the talking!

    talking-animals-blog-(i)

     

  • Is She Sad?

    Most of the time when we talk about people we have the decency to do it behind their backs.  It is pretty rare to turn to the person next to you to gossip about the person across from you.  Usually that thought of being overheard is enough to keep your commentary to yourself.

    But The Munch doesn’t seem to have this filter.  If we are in public and she feels like talking about the strangers we come into contact with, she just does it.  With out any shame.  And always just loud enough that the hear everything.

    Munch: “Mamma, who is that girl?”

    Toni: “I don’t know Munch I have never met her.”

    Munch: “Is she a girl, or is she old?”

    Toni: “Ummmm I think she is in the middle.”

    Munch: “So she is not old?”

    Toni: “No Munch, she is just right?”

    Munch: “Is she sad?”

    Toni: “I don’t think so.”

    Munch: “She looks sad.”

    Toni: “She is fine Munch.”

    Munch: “Now she looks angry.  Is she angry Mamma?”

    Toni: “Probably.”

    Munch: “What is that man doing over there?”

    Toni: “Uhhhhh he is just shopping Munch.”

    Munch: “And he is wearing shoes?”

    Toni: “Yeah he sure is.”

    Munch: “And his shoes are dirty?”

    Toni: “I guess they are, yes.”

    Munch: “So he can’t wear them in his house? Or is his house dirty?”

    Toni: “I am sure he just takes them off before he goes inside.”

    Munch: “Is he angry? Is that man angry?”

    Toni: “Yeah, I think he is.”

    Munch: “Mamma, is that girl hungry over there? Or is she full?”

    Toni: “I think she is hungry Munch, that’s why she is ordering a sandwich.”

    Munch: “She looks full.”

    Toni: “Well, she is not full.”

    Munch: “Mamma is that girl angry?”

    Toni: “For sure.”

    (What’s the big deal Mamma…. its just a little coffee talk).

    coffee-talk-blog

     

    April 24, 2013 • 2 years old, Adventures, Baby Brain, Family Drama, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 939