Now that Jack has the ability to form complete, coherent sentences, he's constantly coming up with new phrases that he likes to share at a loud volume, generally in polite company. Sometimes, these statements are completely innocent and benign, like during his bath the other day when he farted, then looked at John and me and said, "I...I...I durst!" with such enthusiasm that we both cracked up. But there are also the times when he says, "Big man, Mommy," loud enough that I'm pretty sure the "big man" in question couldn't have missed it, or when he says, "Like Grandma," about a woman in her thirties.
On the one hand, it's nice to know that I have a constant source of comic relief living right under my roof. On the other hand, I can't help but feel like I'm participating in a high-stakes game of verbal Russian roulette every time I step foot outside the house.
On Saturday night, we were invited to a friend's house to celebrate the fact that she successfully defended her PhD dissertation (go Dr. Lauren!). I knew that there would be mostly adults at the party, but I also knew that since it started at 6:00 and we're moving to Russia in five weeks and likely won't get another chance to see our friend and her husband, it would probably be okay for us to bring Jack along. (I asked ahead of time, just in case.) But for the hour we were there, Jack ran around like a wild animal, screeching about "GOING TO RUSSIA!" and jumping up and down on the couch like I'd pumped sugar directly into his veins before our arrival. All of the adults at the party pretended to think Jack was adorable, but while Sarah and John held normal conversations with other adults, I was watching Jack like a hawk to make sure he wasn't sucking on honey roasted peanuts and sticking them back into the bowl (caught that one just in time, let me tell you). It's times like those where I realize that any control I think I have over Jack is really just an illusion.
Fortunately, Lauren's husband brought out a recent souvenir and that kept Jack busy for about thirty seconds.
The following morning some friends we haven't seen in over a year brought their new baby by for a visit. The first words out of Jack's mouth were something about Baby Owen not touching Jackie's tower (it was hard to tell exactly what he said, given the volume and pitch of the statement). In fact, it worked to our advantage that our friends couldn't understand half of what Jack was saying, because at brunch they were still calling him beautiful and hilarious (and they actually seemed to mean it). And along with screaming about having to let Baby Owen use his room for a little while, Jack did tell some engaging stories about Russia ("GOING TO RUSSIA!") and declare that he "loves Baby Owen."
I have a feeling Jack is going to continue to be completely unpredictable for the time being. But on the bright side, I can rest assured that almost no one in Yekaterinburg will understand what Jack is saying, even the big man who looks like grandma. His actions, on the other hand, are another story.