The babbling ensues most frequently when Mr. Shakes is extremely tired or very excited about something. Car trips seem to bring it on as well. We either have a passionate discussion about something quite interesting, or I get the babbling. Today was not a day for an interesting conversation.
Waiting at a light behind a Dodge Durango:
Mr. Shakes: Doodge Durangoo. They’re doodgin’ durangoos. What’s a durangoo, anyway? They ooght to joost call it the Doodge Turdo.
Shakes: Mmph.
Mr. Shakes: Dooge Turdo!
Shakes: Stop babbling.
Mr. Shakes: Here we go—we’re turning left now! Turning left!
Shakes: Sigh.
Then Mr. Shakes broke into his favorite song.
She’s round!
She bounces on the ground!
Melissa McEwan!
Melissa McEwan!
Short and cute and round!
Round and short and cute!
Cute and round and short!
Short and cute and round round round!
Shakes: Hahahaha, omigod. [Still funny, though I've heard it no fewer than ten thousand times.]
Mr. Shakes: You know what happens to short round cute people?
Shakes: What?
Mr. Shakes: They marry crazy Scotsmen.
Indeed we do.
[Mr. Shakes just read this and said, “Good loord, people are gooing to think I’m mad!” (He is.) I said, “You should be happy you have a wife who thinks your madness is adorable.” He replied, “I am. I just wish my adorability didn’t constitute a form of insanity so severe that it verges upon the committable.”]
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