A Peaceful Walk

I took Bug for a walk to the playground at the elementary school. We were gone maybe an hour to an hour and a half. He talked the ENTIRE time. I don’t know if I have mentioned it before, but Bug has a tendency to narrate his life. I swear he says everything that pops into his head. Today it included worrying about stepping in a puddle,ensuring that I planned to “take care of him,” discoursing on what types of things my cause a car crash, wondering (out loud) what our neighbors were doing and on and on. The more infuriating part for me is that he asks a question and when I answer it, he says, “What?” I don’t know if he’s got some sort of auditory processing problem, or he’s just not listening, but repeating my response to a question I didn’t want to answer in the first place starts to stress me out. For example:

B: What is that? (pointing to a stone border around someone’s yard)

M: A border.

B: What?

M: A border!

B: Oh. What’s it for?

M: It just decorates the yard.

B: Huh?

M: It goes around the edge of the yard.

B: Do we eat it?

M: No!

B: We don’t eat it?

M: No. It’s made of stone.

B: Oh.

Five feet later…

B: What’s that?

M: A border.

B: What?

M: How about we walk quietly for a bit?

B: Ok, but…

You get the picture. By the time we got back, all I wanted was a nap.