Entry FeedEveryday Monday and Wednesday, Son Two and I venture downtown for some intensive speech therapy. His preference is to take the subway, so we turn it into a bit of an adventure.
This morning the Bloor / Danforth line was running a little slow due to "signaling problems" however we had left early enough that I wasn't worried.
Somehow we lucked out with a near empty train. Son Two and I sat down, and started looking at all of the ads.
Within three stops, the train was so crowded that he could no longer see the ads from his seat. Instead, he started to comment, loudly and clearly, while pointing at other passengers. If only his speech pathologist could have heard him!
Son Two: Mommy - look at that guy! The one with the hair! (It was sort of poofy, but not really remarkable enough for comment.)
Son Two: Look at that old lady! She is so slow. She can barely walk she is so old!
Me: Honey, let's look in Mommy's purse and see what we can find to play with.
Son Two: Mommy, why do you have lines on your forehead?
At least now I can smile at the "old lady," who is probably 48, 'cause now I, too, have been insulted by my cute, but vocal, son.