“WASSAT?”

Vlad the Imaler, Richard the Lionheart, Edward the Confessor . . . Grace the Easily Impressed.

 It’s so true, and so sweet, and yet so annoying that everything; EVERYTHING impresses my daughter at the moment. Husband and I tried having a bit of a lie in this morning, being bank holiday and all. I got up, fed and watered The Giblet, and got back into bed with a nice brew for us, and having baby-proofed the upper floor, we thought she could amuse herself whilst we had a few minutes.  Amusing herself consisted of finding treasure on the bedroom floor. Off she gibbles back and forth around the bed when something catches her eye. She crouches down, examines and carefully extracts said treasure from the carpet, and holds it aloft triumphantly. It is a small clump of dog hair.”WOOOW!” She exclaims in wonderment. Either that or we get  “OOOOOooooh, aaaaaaaaah”  (Yes, she actually says “Ooooh” and “Aaaaah.” Where’s she got this from? Surely no one outside a panto audience says this?) She passes her Dad and I the pieces of tat she finds alternately, and we pretend to be suitably thrilled by the gift of the dog fluff, the old receipt, the barely-visable-to-the-naked-eye scrap of tissue, and the earring back.

Next on the agenda: Sit nicely between Mummy and Daddy and let them watch the news? Play quietly in the nursery with toys? Don’t be silly. Next on the agenda is the “Wassat?” game. Since learning to ask what things are, there’s no stopping her. Out she runs from the bedroom and re-appears back through the door having selected an object of choice and demanding immediate identification with the word of the moment “Wassat?”  On the plus side, she’s always happy with the first answer given. On the minus side, she does not return the object to its proper home, but dumps it unceremoniously onto the bed with us before going to select the next mystery item. It goes like this:

“WASSAT?”

“It’s a shoe, Grace. Mummy’s shoe. Oh thank you”

(Runs out the room. 30 seconds peace. Runs back in)

“Wassat?” 

“Book. That is a book Grace. Ta.”

(Exit once again. 60 seconds peace. Enter Giblet stage left.)

“WASSAT?”

“That is the special stand for holding the toilet rolls Grace. Oh, you’re passing Mummy ALL the toilet rolls from it are you? Ta. Ta. Thank you. Ta Goodness me what a lot of toilet rolls. AND the stand too? THANK you Grace.”

(Objects on bed now beginning to obscure view of the telly)

“WASSAT?”

“Daddy’s pants.”

“WASSAT?”

“A sponge.”

“WASSAT?!

“That’s a hammer. OO SH**, GIVE TO MUMMY GRACE! QUICKLY! TA!”

You get the idea.

Tedious as this can be, (and uncomfortable! Sharing your bed with hammers and toilet roll holders, a realxing lie in, does not make!) when you stop and think about it – how absolutely brilliant. I write this on my super fast broadband lap top, whilst watching my high def, large screen TV, mobile to the left of me, cappuccino from swanky coffee machine on my right, and yet I can’t remember the last time I “WOOOOW” -ed at something that wasn’t meant sarcastically. Yet our little ones find joy in the simplest of things. Bless ’em.

I resolve here and now to revel in my baby girls excitement at the mundane. After all, how long untill she’s whining for the latest games console, or pair of shoes, or lap top of her own? Yes. You go little girl! Find treasure in the carpet, find fun in the bathroom, find magic in all things plain. I am happy to share my bed with the equivalent of a car boot sale for as long as you like!

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19 Comments

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19 responses to ““WASSAT?”

  1. I so agree with you! Long may this phase last and may the playstation and texting gruntathon be a long way off!

  2. Oh bless! My little boy is 14 months, and is doing an abbreviated version, “Da?!” with pointing. Very cute! Oh, and then it’s time for the “stuff things in mummy’s mouth” game… (toys, remote controls, mobile…) Not the greatest relaxing lie in game either, to be honest!

  3. She sounds so cute! And you might need a bigger bed to store all the wassat presents!

  4. HHhmmm. Good excuse for bigger bed me thinks. But I reckon she could still fill it! 🙂

  5. love the new look!!!! fantastic! i too think it’s extraordinarily cute!! how ’bout we swap for a day?? i get the cute, u get the mental…?

    see you soon…xxxx

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  7. One day my wee Edward (he has Down’s Syndrome and was 4 at the time. Now he’s 7) and I were dashing into Tesco’s for a few bits when he suddenly stopped dead, staring intently at a traffic cone beside the walkway into the store. “What is it, Ed?”, I asked him, seeing him crouch low and gawk closely at the top of the cone.
    “Look, Mummy!”, he exclaimed, clearly delighted, “What’s that?”, and he pointed to the top of the cone. In order to see what he was looking at i knelt down beside him and would’ve needed my reading glasses to see the absolutely minute piece of black fluff caught on the top of the cone. It was fluttering in the breeze and this highly amused Edward. He asked me again what it was.
    “A tiny piece of fluff”, I smiled, “But Ed, we need to hurry now and do the shopping, now come on”, I said cheerfully, but, like many Mums in a rush, was anxious to get on with the dreaded shop. Well, my heart lurched when wee Ed stood up, put his lovely wee face right up against the tiny piece of fluff and waved at it, saying “Byeeeeeeeeeee”.
    I will never forget that. Beautiful moments like that knock the sense back into me and remind me that we, as a rushed crazy society, need to wise up and slow down and get our priorities right. It’s the tiny, simple wee things we need to see and enjoy, surely?
    Grace is cuteness itself, Minty. Love the pics.
    Gxo

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  9. I love her she sounds delightful! You should come over and link her up to Wot So Funee? On Thursday http://www.actuallymummy.co.uk/wot-so-funee?

  10. ….. Love the idea of you being fortressed in by toilet rolls – what a lovely toddler!

  11. Aah, so cute. It would be so lovely to see the world through a childs eyes.

  12. Oh to be so easily pleased! Ozzy brings us all manner of odd objects into bed too. I always get into bed and curse at a pencil he has secreted under our bed covers!
    Make the most of it while Grace a is happy to be entertained the mindane – it’s all too soon that they are yabbering on about silly toys that are basically plastic tat that they’ve seen on the tv!

  13. Yey! It’s not just us then! (A pencil though . . . ouch.) x

  14. heehee this is lovely! My little boy doesn’t ask that question yet but he often brings me little presents that he has found around the house 🙂

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