Delightful Dinner Repartee

We were having dinner the other night and enjoying the sounds of our youngest family member, Addison, finally chatting it up. At 18 months, she is by no means a late talker, it’s just that her big sister was a chatterbox straight out of the gate. She simply requires a bit more coaching.

After several rounds of her cutest words, like please (“peezsh”), cock-a-doodle-doo (“COKE-a- dee-dee-dee”), and sorry (“sah-bee”), she pushes herself back from the table, clearly done entertaining us. She sticks out her lip, looks me directly in the eye and puts her foot square on the dinner table. She knows it drives me crazy.

“Addison, you are NOT a hillbilly. Please put your foot down, “ I say. She kind of snorts a little and grins her orneriest grin. Her foot remains firmly planted, of course.

I suppress my laughter because it’s hard not to enjoy (or at least appreciate) her antics. “What?” I continue with a smile “Are you a hillbilly? She wiggles her toes in response, as if to taunt her poor, mannerly mother.

I can’t resist. In the spirit our dinner game I coax her “Adders- can you say hillbilly?”

She grins- wide this time- and lets out a belly laugh. She looks me dead in the eye and shouts “Poppy, Poppy, Poppy!” in her sing-songiest voice.

Alas, my father- her Poppy- is fully understood by his granddaughter.

And we roar with laughter.