My son...the interpreter

Little did I know that my son J.C. had a hidden talent.

As you may know, I am a mama of two little boys. J.C., my oldest, is almost five and Nicolas is two and a half. They're at the ages where they either love each other or hate each other...there's no in between. Seriously, one minute they're giving each other big hugs and kisses (which, as a mom, is one of the best things in the world!) then the next minute they're trying to rip each other's heads off! Fun times.

Well, Nicolas has not yet mastered the art of the English language. I would have to say that I understand about 50% of what comes out of his mouth, which is actually an improvement from a couple of months ago. He asks me questions sometimes, well, wait, I think they're questions based on the inflection of his voice, so I just say "yes" to whatever he's saying to save us both time and frustration. Who knows what I've agreed to with that boy!

Which brings me to J.C.'s talent. About a month ago, Nicolas walks into my bedroom and says, " I want My-ya". At least that was my interpretation. I asked him to repeat himself; once again he says, "I want My-ya!" So instead of going round and round for the next five minutes, I marched him into the living room, where J.C. was playing. I asked Nicolas to repeat himself one more time for J.C. and once again he says very confidently, "I want My-ya." I turn to J.C. and ask him what Nicolas is saying. Without missing a beat, J.C. says, "He wants vanilla mommy." (FYI: that's what they call ice cream) Not believing that could be what Nicolas was saying, I asked Nicolas, "Do you want vanilla?" To which Nicolas promptly nods his head and says "yes, My-ya!" with a big smile.

So there you have it. J.C. is now the official Nicolas translator in our household. In honor of Nicolas, I think I'm going to go get myself a big bowl of My-ya.

Till next time...