So, I’m leaving Rita’s of Ashburn, and outside there’s a dad holding on to a very young child who’s trying to escape his arms to crawl on the table to go after the colored iceies. He, meanwhile, is boastly bragging to the group of people at the table with him how smart his kid is.
“Well, my kid isn’t even one, and he can talk.”
The other members of his group are rolling their eyes and shaking their heads.
Then, suddenly the dad, barks a command at the kid, jolting everyone – “TALK!!!”
The kid, who’s reaching for a red slush freezes in place, silent, unsure if the appropriate response is to burst into tears at being startled.
Then, as if on delayed command, the kids speaks. One word softly: ‘ow.’
Completely seriously, he exclaims, “There, you see! I told you he was smart.”
As I’m stepping off the curb, I hear someone else at the table say, “Dude, come on. First of all, that’s not even baby talk. Second of all, I saw you pinch him.”