Telling Stories to Dad

Telling Stories to Dad

One day, you said, all on your own, “A kitten went fishing. The kitten couldn’t catch any fish, but Yuanyuan could catch fish.” It was the first complete story you ever told by yourself, and we were all amazed. I don’t know exactly what level of language ability a 22-month-old child can reach, but your little story truly surprised me.

Besides telling stories, the first rebellious phase of your life was also beginning to show. When we recited Tang poems to you, you would deliberately add negatives and continue the lines your own way: “The bright sun rests behind the mountains…” “doesn’t set!” “The Yellow River flows into the sea…” “doesn’t flow.” Your powers of observation and judgment also amazed us. When asked who Daddy, Mommy, Grandpa, and Grandpa on Mommy’s side loved most, you would answer without hesitation, “Yuanyuan.” But when asked who Auntie loved most, your answer was “Hehe.”

At this stage, your favorite shows were Thomas & Friends and Super Wings. Even though all those little trains looked exactly the same to us, you could tell Thomas, Gordon, Henry, and Percy apart. You could also recite the names of Jett, Donnie, Dizzy, Grandpa Albert, and more. You were beginning to show the first signs of pretend play: “Yuanyuan is Thomas, Daddy is Gordon, Mommy is Emily,” you would say, assigning roles to all of us. You also started to understand that Daddy and Yuanyuan are boys, while Mommy and Grandma are girls. But one time, when asked what Daddy and Yuanyuan were, you answered, “Twins.” That sudden new concept caught us completely by surprise.

We are always worried that letting you get too absorbed in television might affect your mental development and your eyesight, but at the same time we can’t help wanting to indulge you and let you watch an episode of cartoons once in a while. In the gradual back-and-forth with Mommy, you were also learning how to ask for things and how to compromise, leaving contentedly after watching just one episode. You seemed able to grasp the general plot of a story, growing tense or happy along with it, though I’m not sure how much you really understood. After all, you were not even two years old yet.

Before bed, Daddy often told you stories. They were usually lacking in structure and order, and the subject matter was a jumble of Wu Song, Grimm’s fairy tales, little animals, Thomas, and Super Wings. Seeing how absorbed you were, I couldn’t help feeling that I should reflect a little and do more preparation when it came to telling you stories.

As long as you were awake, you were like a tiny perpetual-motion machine, never still for a moment. You loved being lifted up and tossed into the air. You loved holding our hands and being swung along by us. You could even hang yourself from the handles of the treadmill like a little monkey; we called it “monkey hang.” You could run thirty or forty meters in one go. We were always worried you might get hurt, but most of the time you were able to control your own pace. The sight of your little figure bouncing off into the distance was incredibly adorable.

Because we haven’t had enough help lately, Mommy has been taking you to work with her. By all accounts, you’ve behaved very well. In the morning, you hurry Mommy to take you to work with her. At the office, you greet everyone by saying, “Yuanyuan is here.” When you eat little bean candies, you share them with everyone. When it’s time to leave, you say goodbye to them all. You’ve done very well. It’s just that it’s been hard on all of you.