An Apple a Day – The Hard Way

There are some things our sons do that one of us finds more amusing than the other. This is usually based on who it annoys more and that is usually based on who has to deal with it more often. Given my travel schedule this leads to weekends filled with me laughing at things while my wife glares at me and says, “Don’t encourage him/them,” through gritted teeth. Sometimes I can’t tell if she’s trying not to laugh or not to kill one of us (probably me).

So, the other day I’m sitting on the couch with my lap top (it was either a presentation or email I don’t want to remember which) during feeding time at the zoo when I hear Graeme in mantra mode, “Apple, apple, apple, apple, apple…” ad nauseum. This prompts the clueless commuter father quip of the afternoon, “They eat apples?”

Tiffany’s patient reply, “Yes.”

“What kind,” I asked. Honestly I had no idea.

“This kind.” She says as she holds up a chunk of watermelon.

“Uh, that’s not an apple.”

“I know.”

While the boys' vocabulary is exploding right now (today I got to hear “raining, cool, pool, doh!” and others), we’re apparently having a comprehension issue with fruits and vegetables. All fruit is now declared an apple, and based on dinner last night either their mother has discovered some kind of orange beans or they’re declaring carrots and all else vegetable as “bean, bean, bean.” God help you if there’s one on the floor. All other activity must stop until it’s been picked up.

I think the boys may be using tones to differentiate the precise meaning of words like they do in Chinese, but Tiffany and I don’t speak secret twin language. All I know is that this is not what the doctor had in mind when he said an apple a day.