I’ve been trying to convince Toddler Harbat that siamang gibbons would be the perfect playmates in the house. Without firsthand evidence, she agrees with me.
“They could wear your party dresses! And play with your stuffed animals! And eat all our bananas!”
“Yeah!” she replies.
This began, as most things do, with my efforts to entertain myself while she eats dinner.
“Hoo…how!” I yell.
“What’re you sayin’, Babbo?”
“That’s what the siamang says.” So I get out the laptop to show her this video.
She slurps up her split pea soup and it dribbles down onto her bib. “I like that. I wanna see annuder one.”
So now during bathtime, when I’m putting on her pajamas, and reading her a book, I tell her maybe the siamangs will come stay at our house. They’ll put on her shoes, climb on the furniture, and hoot at each other, I say. It’ll be fun! Hoo…hooo…how! How! Howhowhowhow!
Writer, architect, father, husband.
You have got to be the funnest Dad ever. Thanks for sharing all this with us.
Thanks for that!
[ciò è buono]
Good gracious–that takes cat yowling to new heights! Maybe TH can now make up a story about the siamang monkeys that only come to her room at night when she's sleeping and play with all her toys.
Why does that one have a goiter?