I got to the café just as my parents were sitting down to eat. Here in Mexico, we have different meal hours. Like, breakfast is of course, early in the morning. Then we don't lunch at noon or so, rather we have the heaviest meal of the day around 2 pm. We call it, simply, Eating, comida. And then we have dinner, only it is usually something very light, around 8:00 pm, and we call it just Supper, or Cena. Ok, stop yawning now.
Well, we sat together and started talking. We mainly talked about my daughters. How cute they are. How nuts they are. How none of them took after me. But then again, I was a freak.
What would you call a baby not 11 months old that spoke like a grown up. Damien? LOL! that was me. I could not walk, I was not even 3 feet tall and I talked. Not baby talk either. My parents tell me that one day, I just started talking like a grownup. No ba-bah. No Ma-mah. No cute little baby-isms. How boring was I? how uncute! how unbabyish! LOL!
I have come to the conclusion that it was in self defense. I was the only baby in a house almost full of grownups. My brothers were five and six years old when I was born, so they already dominated the formal speech (ha!). Two uncles and an aunt lived in my house, all grown up, plus mom and dad and a girl that helped my mom (with such a housefull, you must imagine the ammount of work!). The cousins I had nearer my age were not yet living in this COUNTRY, so I guess I figured I HAD to catch up with everybody, and one day decided to begin talking, just like that.
And freaking people out! Dad likes to tell this one story, a bit after I started talking he was holding me (remember I did not walk yet) and looking at magazines while my mom was shopping, and a woman came to the magazine kiosk. While my dad was absorbed with his mag, I turned around and started speaking to the lady... who did not respond, but looked at me with a look of real fright. Dad turned to me because he thought I was speaking to him and then he saw the woman, who looked at him and asked him how old I was. "Eleven months" he answered, and then she just said "ay que perica!" (yup, she was comparing me with a parakeet, but I think my dad softens it up for my benefit), turned and left, magazines and all forgotten.
And I haven't stopped talking since.
Oh and if you wonder, my littlest is 16 months old and STILL won't even say Mommy or Daddy. She'll call us "mah" and "pah" and say "no" and "cheche" (leche, milk) but that's about it. And my eldest was almost as bad as the little one!!!!!