Last night we went to a Thanksgiving celebration with friends, and we were driving home a bit later than we should have; not respecting bedtime quite as closely as we promised we would.
When we stay out too late, Mary Virginia is not a happy traveller. While she cries the entire way home, the rest of us do whatever we can think of to appease her. We sing, we tell jokes, we ignore her. Last night we discovered that if we ask her to say words, it distracted her from her agony. Our ride home sounded like this:
Me: Mary Virginia, can you say “Henry”?
Mary Virginia: HEN-NY!
Tom: Mary, can you say “balloon”?
Mary Virginia: BOON!
David: Mary. Can you say “Doll?
Mary Virginia: DOLL!
This went on for a while, and we all started having a lot of fun coming up with words and phrases for her to say. David eventually upped the ante by saying gibberish and then laughing hysterically at himself.
David: Mary, can you say WEEEEwahWEEEwahWEEEEEwahWEEEEwahWEEEEwahWEEEwah
This change in our game irritated Mary Virginia, and the rest of us in the car, too, so Tom said:
Tom: David, ask her if she can say real words.
David: Mary, can you say “real words”?
Mary Virginia: …no…
David: Daddy, she can’t say real words.