Lately, K is really into this little stuffed cat. She named it “kittie”, or as she pronounces it, “Tittie”. I try to keep the thing in her bed, (out of sight out of mind) but she remembers to ask for “Tittie” after breakfast or goes back to bed to get “Tittie” all on her own.
She takes the thing everywhere, and because her vocabulary isn’t fantastic she says things like:
“Where k tittie?”
whenever she is looking for Tittie, which, as it happens, is quite a lot because I’d really prefer that she forget about Tittie entirely.
It could be worse I suppose, when J was her age, he had a thing for dump trucks. With his stellar two-year-old vocab and pronunciation skills, he forgot the p in “dump”, and changed the tr in “truck” to an f.
This was especially fun when he would spot a dump truck, because he would point to the thing and scream “dumb fuck” loudly and gleefully, so that anyone in the vicinity of said truck would feel… Included.