Free Write: Dip, Dip?

Toddlers are mysterious creatures. They seem to have developed their own language, including gestures and confusing noises, and they have quirks just like adults. You can only give hugs after you put her bracelet on, you must let the Batman pillow sleep in the bed, and, most importantly, all food items must be “dip dip” in whatever sauce you have provided. Don’t forget to say “dip dip” when you “dip dip” or it is game over.

My husband decided we were going to cheat on our diet and get a cheap, greasy, cheesy pizza and breadsticks. This meal includes all of our toddler’s favorite items: bread, cheese, and sauce to “dip dip”. As always, as soon as we got buckled back in the car I opened the cheese bread, “dip dip” each piece and handed them to my husband, who was driving, and the expectant toddler staring at me from her booster seat. She ripped it out of my hand and immediately sucked off all the sauce.

“Dip dip?” she said in her innocent voice as she shoved the bread back at me, expecting more of the delectable sauce.

Of course, I “dip dip”. This went back and forth several times.

After the fifth time, my daughter shoved the bread back at me, mouth full, and muttered, “diapdalsdkj;?”

“She has a mouth full. She seems distracted. She is done I guess. Gross…now I am left holding the half-eaten piece of cheese bread that is disintegrating due to the amount of times she made me “dip-dip” and simply sucked the sauce off” I thought to myself.

Flying down the freeway, I rolled down my car window, and flung the piece of cheese bread out (I am not proud of this, but at this point it was either the bread or me). I rolled the window back up, and cozied back in, listening to the radio.

I turned around. My daughter looked at me with pure betrayal…

“Dip dip?” The sense of panic rose inside me as I watched the tears start to cloud her eyes: here it comes. Brace for impact.

How did I not know that diapdalsdkj; was “dip dip”? I had thrown her hopes and dreams out the car window and they were bouncing down I-35. She stared at me, mouth open, hand out, waiting for “dip dip” until we got home.

That toddler-to-literally any other human language barrier is life-or-death.