>The Narrator

>I was such an avid reader as a child that I would occasionally make up stories in my head based on what was happening in my life.  You know those moments, when you are able to kind of step back mentally and observe/comment on the “scene” you’re in.  I’d be riding the bus, and there would be this little narration in my head of what was happening, embellishing on the other “characters” and the little dramas of their lives.  It would turn out, to my dismay, to be pretty unexciting whenever I would try to write things down, so I long ago decided that being any kind of fiction writer was not in my future.  No regrets about that, but I do still have those little moments of mental narration whenever I’m trying to compose a post or an email, before I ever sit down to the computer.

But now it so happens that I have my own real-life Narrator who is with me in nearly every scene.  You’d think after a week or two of this that I’d be used to it, but it still either startles me or makes me laugh.

Every morning now when Sebastian and I are going through our own routine, he narrates what his daddy is doing once he gets up.  Just run of the mill stuff, usually:  Daddy taking a shower.  Daddy brushing his teeth.  Then the guesses, now that he knows a key word:  Daddy prob’ly getting dressed.  Daddy prob’ly going out front door.  And of course the wishful thinking:  Sebastian prob’ly getting in Daddy silver-gray car.  Sorry, buddy.

That’s the typical stuff.  He does plenty of self-narration, too, which is entertaining mostly due to the fact that he still has “you” and “I” mixed up.  So throughout the day, I hear a lot of statements that would be funny if he meant them the way most of us would interpret them:  You want a snack.  So true, I’m always hungry these days!  I can pick you up.  Hmm, I don’t think so!

He narrates people’s behavior in stores and restaurants, too, which I’m pretty sure is going to lead me to some future posts about embarrassing moments when my toddler has said something he shouldn’t have in public.  Just the other day we were at a restaurant when another child stood up on her seat in the booth opposite Sebastian.  He immediately said, “No.  No standing on seat.”  {My mental note:  Yes!  He is paying attention to the rules I have to repeat 800 times a day!}  Then, turning to me, “That one standing on seat.  No standing on seat.  Hafta sit down on seat.”  He was obviously disturbed by my lack of action in the matter and kept repeating variations of this until the girl finally sat down.

Then there are those startling moments, when I have my own life narrated for me, down to the smallest detail.  I’ll think he is absorbed in whatever he’s doing, I’ll be going about my own thing, and then suddenly I’ll hear the little voice.  Mama blowing her nose.  Mama being careful wif knife.  Mama doing dishes.  These days almost no action goes unnoted.

The best part is that Sebastian carries his own mental narrator around in the form of things we say to him on a regular basis.  It has switched from third person to second, but it still makes me smile.  When asking for something and has remembered to say please:  You ask(ed) nicely.  When he falls down:  You fell down.  You’re ok.  When he wants help:  Mama can help you.  

It all makes for days that are simultaneously more tedious and more entertaining.

And visitors, beware.  The Narrator is watching your every move!