Frustrated Little Sponge

Poor James. He really needed a different mother. This morning he came up to me and asked me, "What is the classification of the word 'can'?"

"Well," I said, donning my best mentor voice, "how is the word being used, sweetheart?"

*pause* "Um, no. Not like that. I just want to know how the word is classified. The word itself."

"Yes, but before we can determine that, we need to know if we're talking about "a 'can' of tuna" or whether you 'can' wiggle your tooth.

*sigh* "That's not what I mean."

*sigh* "Of course it is." (Because, really, what the heck else can he be talking about?!?)

So we go several volleys like this, back and forth. Nouns. Verbs. NO. Context... no. His frustration is mounting. Mine is matching his, step for step. We are obviously not communicating well, here. We do this. Thankfully, we know we do this, so we don't take it personally, and we're both going. to. figure. this. out. (Even if it gives us aneurysms! WEEE!)

Finally he says, "OK! Wait! I think I figured out how to ask this."

Yay! (on the inside - on the outside, I said...) "OK, shoot."

"What do you call a word that is two words which are spelled the same AND pronounced the same, BUT have different meanings?" And then he smiled a big, BIG smile.

"OHHHHHH!" *smacks self in the forehead* "OKAY, *now* I get it!"

So we discuss homographs and homophones and homographic homonyms. He is satisfied. His sponginess has absorbed the nectar it sought, and off he goes to think of something else to ask.

I turn, slowly, back to my coffee, and wonder at how I was given such an inquisitive, wonderful (have I mentioned "patient" lately?) child. He's wonderful. He's growing. And he's rapidly gaining on me.

I think I need to go read something!

Kiss those babies!
~Dy