Year 4, Day 190

There was a time, not so long ago, when I was able to talk at my wife in peace. Sure, she still didn’t hear half of what I was saying, but at least I could speak without being drowned out by eardrum-shattering screaming.

Now, almost any time I start talking to Jaclyn (or vice versa), Miles decides he has something FAR more important to say and begins shrieking, “Hey! HEEEEYYYYYY! I GOTTA TELL. YOU. SOMETHING!” so quickly that I immediately wonder why I ever opened my mouth.*

Tonight Jaclyn tried, once again, to give him some direct feedback.

“Miles,” she said, “you need to say ‘Daddy, can I please talk to Mommy?'”

Miles immediately quieted down and said, “Daddy can I please talk to Mommy?”

Hey, it was something. But would it stick? Recent history suggests otherwise.

And yet, on the way out to Verde for dinner, Miles spoke up from the backseat as Jaclyn and I were chatting. “Daddy, can I please talk to mommy?”

We clapped. “Miles that was really good!” we both said in unison.

“I’m so proud of you!” I added, happy to pause my own conversation to allow our newly-polite spawn a chance to speak. “Go ahead.”

“Hey I had a really good idea,” Miles declared. “After I eat a burrito, I could watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.”

I don’t know if I’d call it a great idea, but after he adjusted his response (and behaved perfectly at the restaurant), who was I to argue?

_{* And I mean that. EVER.}