How were we to know that an innocent raspberry would lead to a new and scintillating language? Sure we blew a few in her direction. We’re parents, that’s our job—along with wiping her boogers, cleaning the dried porridge off her face, and being her human sunscreen.
What we didn’t expect was a new way to communicate. We’re not such high-class totties ourselves that we can’t enjoy a fine exchange of spitting. After a couple of bravos to Jem’s retaliations, it seemed that she found “her voice.” She did little but raspberry at us for the rest of our visit. And her excellent vocabulary expanded today, to the raspberry with saliva bubbles, and the raspberry with a lazy tongue, even the raspberry from a girl with half-clothed eyes, heading off to sleep. Our worries about seeing evidence of a connection are gone. We’re perfectly suited to one another—and ready to wash her face cloth so she can spit all over it tomorrow. What fun!
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