Agent M-isms

In the past few months especially, Agent M's imagination has been on over drive, and the verbal results have been interesting. Such as this moment, a few weeks ago:

Agent M, fully dressed, as he walks along the back of the couch (using it as a balance beam): "Mom, this is so embarrassing."
Me: "Why?"
Agent M: "Because there are lots of people watching me and I am in my underwear."

Not exactly the stuff kids pick up from Saturday morning cartoons.

There have been so many more - mostly forgotten, but this one also sticks out:

Another time, Agent M and I were upstairs at home, each busy in our separate rooms with our own activities. Agent M was busy creating something that involved roll after roll of clear tape and seemingly a ream of paper, while I sat on my bed, busily folding towels. Suddenly, Agent M runs over to my bedroom door, and stands in the door way, watching me. I waited a beat, then looked over at him.

Me: "What's up, sugar?"
Agent M: "The government is watching you and they are not amused."

He then walked back to his room, as if nothing had been said. I actually felt slightly concerned at this point. Not at where he was picking up this stuff, but more at if he knew something I didn't.

Two days ago, he made up his own language and spoke only in it to me in it for a little over half an hour. It amazed me how he could come up with whole "sentences", then repeat them two or three times perfectly and with growing frustration when I had no clue what he was getting at the first time he said it. Taking a cue from Martian Child (one of my most favorite movies), I tried to follow along, and by the end of the half hour, I had picked up on quite a few regularities. One of the last things he said in his other language involved wanting me to take something he was handing to me, but I was driving and my back was towards him, I could not easily see him or what he was gesturing. As if we were in regular conversation, I replied back to him, "It sounds like you want me to take that, when I stop at the stop light, I will." At the stop light, I turned and sure enough, he had his arm outstretched, handing me the wrapper to him gum. He grinned, biting down on his bottom lip with his top teeth, in the way he does when he is trying to pretend to not smile but his happiness can not be contained. I had been correct. He whispered a "Thank you", and the light turned green.


No, thank you Agent M, for keeping me on my toes. Thank you for reminding me it's good to be silly and play, and make up languages. Thank you for being my quirky, odd, and amazingly wonderful little boy.