I catch him with it sometimes, "talking." He holds it up to his ear and says "Aah?" in a distinctive tone that I know means "Hello?" Then he talks for a few minutes, pausing and laughing as if having a real conversation.
Who knows, maybe he is.
Then he takes the phone away from his ear and says, "Baaaaah," with the same intonation I use in my own "bye."
The other morning, he came into bed with us. Immediately, he took the phone from my nightstand and put it to his ear.
"Hello?" I responded putting a fake phone up to my ear. "Who is it?"
He smiled. "Gah ga yah yah ya." It's Henry! "Gah gah ha ha la. Baba baba ba!"
Then he started laughing this super loud, hyena laugh. Honestly, it was almost a bark. Like a fake bark-laugh. His eyes widened.
"HA HA HA," he cried. "HAAA HAAA HAAA."
I heard Rayne laughing from the living room.
"I guess I laugh loudly on the phone," I chuckled.
"Yeah, you do."
Henry continued babbling and fake-bark-laughing.
"Do I sound like a hyena?"
"You must," Rayne responded. "To him," he quickly added.
"HA HA HA. HAAA HAAA HAAA." Bark-laugh.
Imitation, is, I suppose, the sincerest form of flattery. The mirror children hold up to you is incredible. You can't possible "watch" everything you do, sanitize it, make it perfect. Yet, if he's going to pick up a mannerism, there are worse things than my -- ahem -- distinctive laugh.
|I laugh like you, Moo Cow!|