I learned something today. I learned that my child will not be readily accepted into the eccentric family fold of the traveling circus, however much I may wish to send him there at some point in the distant future. Oh, I have no inkling of that desire right now, but my mom assures me that there will come a day when I will wonder how to contact Barnum and Bailey, and subsequently trade him for a bag of cotton candy or other assorted sundry items. She knows this feeling will come because she apparently experienced it herself - surely not with me! - but with my brother and sister.
Even if she's right - and I have my doubts - they wouldn't take him. Not talented enough?, you may ask yourself, and then pat yourself on the back because your child certainly is...let's not kid ourselves. Joshua is a wonder child, a prodigy, and can certainly "circus perform" circles around your child, should he so choose. The problem is simply that, growl, he will not perform on command.
He recently learned to say "shoes" or "eeooooohhhhhs" or "shhhhhhhs" while pointing at the object of which he speaks. Another word he's added to his repetoire is "Lucy", which happens to be the name of our dog. My husband tries to convince me it sounds more like "ooocy" or sometimes even, "ooocy shhhhs", but I hear quite clear as a bell, "Lucy" or "Lucy Shoes". As I said, wonder child. One unfortunate detail to this cute little vingnette is that no one knows this but me.
I try to show him off all the time. The neighbors, my mom, my friends, strangers on the street who inexplicably look like they want to run away, really anyone whose attention I can grab. I proceed to explain the myriad talents my prodigy has in his bag of tricks, and then gently prod him to demonstrate. I build him up, I give the drum roll....and he looks at me like I'm nuts. I can't be sure, but I think I can glimpse a hint of grim satisfaction in his eye when he refuses to perform on command. Oh, he hides it well, but a mother knows.
So today, as we were shopping with Mom (to me) Grammy (to Joshua), even though I knew better, I said, "Mom, you will not believe what he can do!" She rolled her eyes. "Joshua, can you say....shoes?" Blank look. "Come on, punky, SHOES!" Nothing. "How about...Lucy? Lucy shoes!"
"Dada."
"No, Lucy! Shoes! Lucy Shoes! LUCY SHOES!"
(giggle) "Mama. Dada. Mada." (giggle)
"Come on, say "shoes" for mommy! You can do it! You say it all the time at home. Now...what's on your feet? Shoes!"
"sh...MAMA!" (said while pointing at his shoes)
At this point in the conversation, my mother looked at me with wry humor, patted my shoulder, and condescended, "of course he can say those words, dear. Of course."
Well!
The shopping excursion ended. When we got home he wouldn't stop talking about Lucy. And shoes. (I remain convinced he does this knowingly.) I began to recall what my mother said about the circus, which led me to the conclusion that they wouldn't have much use for an elephant rider who wouldn't hoist himself atop the elephant in company, or any other kind of wonder child who only performs his craft in private.
Circus patrons, as Barnum and Bailey surely realize, don't believe protestations of, "oh, but he really can do it! He just did, in fact, right before you got here! Honest!," any more than my mom does. But, aha! I have it! There's always gypsies...
