alex hf (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bees4breakfast) wrote,@ 2007-12-21 21:44:00 |
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Will's Understanding of the Symmetric Property
Something new that Will has been doing in the month of December is playing a game called "What's Will Doing." The game goes like this: Will is doing something perfectly clear and straightforward, like eating lunch, digging in the sand, or kicking a piece of wood. Will locates me and, sometimes too quietly for me to hear at first, and then with increasing volume until I've acknowledged him, asks me: "what's Will doing?" and I have to tell Will what Will is doing. It's a dumb game, because not only does Will know perfectly well what Will is doing, but Will definitely, certainly possesses the vocabulary to describe what he is doing in simple, accurate terms, no matter what he's doing at the time he asks. Because, see, Will only ever asks "what's Will doing" when Will is doing something that Will commands the appropriate language to describe.
I try to turn it around on him, and say "Why don't YOU tell ME what Will is doing," because this would sneakily transform his annoying game into a language exercise, forcing him to learn by practicing his speaking. Except it doesn't work. When I do this, Will smiles a uniquely Will smile, a smile that says "I've got you, you fucker, I'm really good at this game and you're shit at it and we both know it," and simply asks again, "what's Will doing?" He does not relent until I tell Will what he's doing. And once I've told him, he only ever says one thing in reply: "Yeeahhh." Which is to say, "yes, Alex, you have answered my question correctly, and also you have yet again fallen prey to my foolproof method of getting you to say some shit that I already know."
Anyway, all that said, Will kind of warmed my cockles the other day with an unexpectedly cute episode of "What's Will Doing." He came up to me while we were playing outside, and just folded himself into my chest/torso region and rested there for a moment, leaning into me. Then he righted himself, standing on his own but still maintaining our body contact, and stared off into space for a couple of beats before asking, "what's Alex doing?" I replied, gently and earnestly, "standing with Will." Then, feeling the moment, not really thinking at all, I asked, "what's Will doing?" and he replied, "standing with Alex."
Something new that Will has been doing in the month of December is playing a game called "What's Will Doing." The game goes like this: Will is doing something perfectly clear and straightforward, like eating lunch, digging in the sand, or kicking a piece of wood. Will locates me and, sometimes too quietly for me to hear at first, and then with increasing volume until I've acknowledged him, asks me: "what's Will doing?" and I have to tell Will what Will is doing. It's a dumb game, because not only does Will know perfectly well what Will is doing, but Will definitely, certainly possesses the vocabulary to describe what he is doing in simple, accurate terms, no matter what he's doing at the time he asks. Because, see, Will only ever asks "what's Will doing" when Will is doing something that Will commands the appropriate language to describe.
I try to turn it around on him, and say "Why don't YOU tell ME what Will is doing," because this would sneakily transform his annoying game into a language exercise, forcing him to learn by practicing his speaking. Except it doesn't work. When I do this, Will smiles a uniquely Will smile, a smile that says "I've got you, you fucker, I'm really good at this game and you're shit at it and we both know it," and simply asks again, "what's Will doing?" He does not relent until I tell Will what he's doing. And once I've told him, he only ever says one thing in reply: "Yeeahhh." Which is to say, "yes, Alex, you have answered my question correctly, and also you have yet again fallen prey to my foolproof method of getting you to say some shit that I already know."
Anyway, all that said, Will kind of warmed my cockles the other day with an unexpectedly cute episode of "What's Will Doing." He came up to me while we were playing outside, and just folded himself into my chest/torso region and rested there for a moment, leaning into me. Then he righted himself, standing on his own but still maintaining our body contact, and stared off into space for a couple of beats before asking, "what's Alex doing?" I replied, gently and earnestly, "standing with Will." Then, feeling the moment, not really thinking at all, I asked, "what's Will doing?" and he replied, "standing with Alex."
