All right, all right, I admit it – Devin knows McDonald’s. He knows it well. If he can see that giant yellow M, he’ll point to it and exclaim. When we pull into the drive through, he throws his hand in the air and says (in Devish) “we’re here!”
The other day, we had some nuggets and he was pointing out the M symbols on the paper bag…
“Oh dear,” said Jene. “Oh, you are a smarty pants, aren’t you?”
Which prompted Devin to grab his leggings and start to pull them down. Pants were mentioned, after all.
I would like to clarify, though, that while we go there more than either of us would like, it’s not like it’s every day or every other day. I’d say a full-on week would have three visits, either for lunch or snacks. And Devin is not overly fussed by the food – he mainly only cares that he gets some chips (fries?).
There are other places that elicit the “we’re here!” exclamation. One is the Mall. It’s only five kilometres from our house, so we’re there often. Very often. The other places are the turn before our street, the turn on to our street, and the turn into our driveway.
He is, unfortunately, saying no more often. At the moment it’s not too bad, and sometimes actually funny just because of the variations in how he says it. Sometimes he says it as a question, like he’s mocking me –
“Hey, you want to come help me with this, Devin?”
Sometimes it’s just a flat out refusal –
“Ok, time to wash our hands.”
Sometimes it’s a combination of question and repetition –
“Time to hop out of the bath and brush your teeth.”
“N-oh? N-oh? N-oh?” – accompanied by vigourous head shaking. (He really enunciates the ‘o’ sound of ‘no’.)
And actually now that I think about it, he also frequently says it like the French non, which is funny since he pronounces ‘hot’ with a French accent, too.
He put his face in the bubbles in his bath the other night, and came back up with a perfect moustache and goatee. It made me laugh, which made Devin laugh, which made me laugh again, and then we ended up in a fake-laugh battle.