This weekend we were at the grocery store and saw the magic doors, the ones that open automatically. We noticed them, and I asked whether he'd like to make them open. "Sure!" He said, "I think we need to use some magic words." I told him that was a great idea and asked which ones we should use. "Abre!" My child asked the doors to open in Spanish? He officially knows more Spanish than his dad, who took four years of it in high school.
Then yesterday, as I was pedaling him home from the park pulling his chariot behind me (even he calls it that now), he was talking to his grandma on my cell phone. Out of nowhere I hear, "Oh my gosh!" I've never heard him say that before, and it kind of struck me funny. Sadly, I was terribly out of breath pedaling after a weekend of working in the garden and couldn't really laugh like I wanted to. I digress. Over the next several blocks, I heard him say it several more times. Odd. Then I heard, "Mommy, what does, 'Oh my gosh' mean?" I asked him, "What do you think it means?" "I think it means riding bikes." I told him it was more like, "Wow!" "Oh." Back to conversation with Grandma as though it never happened.
This morning, as we drove to school, Aidan yelled to no one in particular, "Oh my gosh!" Again, "Mommy, what does, 'Oh my gosh' mean?" Again, "What do you think it means?" "I think it means, 'Oh, what a beautiful morning!'" I told him it could mean that, but it was really a little more like a Wow! "No, Mommy; it means, 'Oh, what a beautiful morning!'" Seriously? Oh, what a beautiful morning? I was thrown enough at the, "Oh my gosh!" much less the "Oh, what a beautiful morning!"
Who is this kid? Is this how we roll now?