Our grandson, the little one here, insists that a fork is a “poon” and a spoon is a fork. If you offer him a fork, he’ll correct you and say “a poon”. And visa-versa. And so at dinner tonight, take-out from Sushi Metsuyan, he spits out the spicy fish poppers, but eats the tofu and the grilled mango from the Nakate Tofu and as much of the California roll that his brother will give him, but takes a new “poon” each time he returns from walking away from the table. And leaves his ice cream to go back to more tofu.
You see, he’s two years old now and the world is his. If you say that a certain item is yours, he’ll correct you and say it’s his. So it’s his toys and his booster seat and his bike and his bike helmet (the pink one and the blue one) and his gloves (all the pairs that he can put his hands on) and his hat. His brother’s hat, his old hat, and anything else that goes on his head. Especially the doll hat. We returned a doll hat that someone in his family had left at our house. He insisted that he could wear it. We tried to let a toy bear wear the hat and he thought that was a hoot. No, it belonged on his head. But the bear was allowed to wear a scarf, something that had come off one of his sister’s shirts. After all, it was very cold today and the bear needed to be warm.
It’s extraordinary to watch someone learn to play and represent the world in symbols, while still owning the world.
I would publish a gallery of the little one’s wearing of the hats, but I won’t. I will publish other photos later when we return to home. In the meantime, we’re enjoying not being home and just being at home in the universe.