Listening to young children master spoken language is entertaining. The mystery of our words and patterns of speech come back to us slightly garbled or with new insights from novel use.
One two-year-old, confidently scrambling up a stool in the kitchen to investigate the contents of pots and pans, was met with maternal consternation. After a mother’s exasperating, “Shoo! Shoo!” she replied with a knowing smirk, “I’m not a bug!”
What is perhaps most amusing about two-year-olds, those people with the reputation for terrible qualities, is their need for superiority and primacy. If you say anything—anything at all!—some are apt to respond emphatically, “No, it’s not!”
“You’re beautiful.”
“No, I’m not beautiful!”
“It’s raining.”
“No, it’s not raining!”
The zest for verbal sparring is so intense that meaning is no obstacle to engaging the fight.
The perfect gift for a child of this disposition is the animatronic hamster that records and repeats what you say. “I’m bigger!” the confident two-year-old proclaims. To which the electronic hamster squeaks, “I’m bigger!” Unphased, the toddler says louder, “No, I’m bigger!” “No, I’m bigger!” comes back the toddler’s own distorted, high-pitched voice through the hamster.
The young girl has met her match. This is an endless loop that could continue uninterrupted save for cackling peals of laughter for untold hours.
We don’t negotiate with terrorists. Or two-year-olds. To engage the argument directly is sheer madness. But we can find willing participants, whether alive or harmlessly electronic, and sit back for the entertaining results of an argument with a two-year-old.
