We watched baby D gather his beloved blocks.
“Give them to Anita” I pointed to my friend,who was eagerly awaiting for the baby to toddle towards her.
“I must try to get him to say my name, it’s about time he said it” she laughed as baby D handed her a block, ” Whad dat?”, he asked as he took his block back.
“Block” Anita answered him. He turned and faced me.
“D, look at Mom” I sat forward trying to engage him. He looked at me, smiled, “Bock” he raised the block to show me. We both clapped with a chorus of ” good boy”, “clever little man”- the usual chorus, us mammys sing.
“Come here buddy” I placed my hand out. He came over, repeating “bock”. He handed me the block. “Up” he started to climb on my lap. I helped him up.
“D, say ‘Nee-ta”. In my wisdom, I had decided to drop the “A” from Anita’s name, in a pathetic attempt to make it easier on my little tongue tied 17month old- I may have underestimated my little dude.
I repeated ‘Nee-ta’ as he smiled and pointed at Anita, who was also repeating “Nee-ta”.
He got down off my lap, stood and pointed at Anita and said, “Nig-ga”.
My mouth fell open, while Anita turned away from him, her shoulders going up and down. I tried so hard not to laugh, but a little giggle did slip out. “Nig-ga, nig-ga” he pointed at Anita , dead proud of himself. “Oh fuck” , yes, yes I did say the F word in front of him, I’m not proud of that ( either ). My mind flashed to a bus trip, I imagined him happily saying “Nigga” , as he loves Anita and thinks every sliver car is hers…there are a lot of sliver cars around. I began to sweat. “D, that’s A-NEE-TA” I pointed at Anita, who still had her back to us. “A-NEE-TA” I pointed again. He smiled. “Ah-nig-ga” he proudly pointed at Anita.
I have no immediate plans to leave my house.