Happy Pig

So Bubba hit a new phase last week.  I think we’ll call it the Repeat Two Words Over and Over Until Mommy Loses Her Mind phase.

Nana has a pig.  A singing, tutu wearing pig.  The pig was a birthday gift from an equally eccentric family member.  At first Bubba was terrified of the pig, probably because it’s almost as tall has he is, and he accidentally met her eye to eye right outside the bedroom door while in a post-nap stupor.  Creepy pig.  Poor kid.

The pig eventually won Bubba over when he realized that she does, in fact, sing his most favorite song, Happy BirthdaySo now he will sing/dance along with the pig as many times in a row as Mommy can stand.  But always from a distance.  Someone else must push her “butt”…that’s Bubba for “button,” of course.

When I got home from the Grand Canyon, it didn’t take him a but short while to start talking about the “Happy Pig”.  But when Happy Pig comes to mind, it’s somehow not enough to mention her just once or twice.  I think in Bubba’s mind you must repeat a phrase at least twenty times in a row for your audience to know the passion that is felt for a certain subject.

The only tiny problem with this particular current object of his affection is that it’s very hard to distinguish whether he’s talking about the pig or showing off his other latest trick: learning to spell his real name.  Context clues are key here.  So far he’s only got the last three letters down, but either way, they both sound like this:

“I-P-P, I-P-P, I-P-P, I-P-P, I-P-P, I-P-P, I-P-P, I-P-P, I-P-P, I-P-P…”

No less than 20 times in a row.  Every time.

Again, poor kid.