Speech Delay

Dadda picked me up early from my daycare, Crapacus, right in the middle of pwaytime. I was still excited to see him, and the reassurance that we were going somewhere fun restrained me enough from letting loose a torrent of complaints and whines. I inquired as to our destination, but Dadda said he could not explain. Figures, Dadda has a limited vernacular with which to glean prospective verbiage when requested. I asked him if we were going home and he said no. I asked him if we were going somewhere else to play, and he said kinda. I don't know kinda. I suppose it's some sort of noncommittal response which, if like every other answer other than yes. . .means no. This time, however, it turned out to be yes.


We went to a new place, Dadda mentioned they were called portables, but even though they were much smaller and shabby looking then regular buildings, they looked only slightly mobile by even Joshie standards, what with my herculean strength and all. Some very excitable ladies greeted me, and I reluctantly entered, Dadda's hand firmly clutched in mine. Much to my chagrin there lay a treasure trove of treasures and even some troves, and. . .toys! Boy howdy! First, though, I had to answer some questions about some pictures in a flip book. What? You expect me to read and listen to some polite interrogation when there are new toys and games that need a fresh coating of boogers and some friendly incorporation into my fantasy world? Pshaw! So I quickly answered her queries: there's a wheel, that's a door, this one is crying, pirate, engine manifold, pi r squared, unicorn, whatever, I'm gonna go check out that school bus!


Dadda continued to visit with the ladies while I explored this fun land, then to my surprise, one of them came to join me. So I must do a jig for my supper, eh? I took it upon myself to instruct this kind woman in the proper conduct and procedures of pwaytime.


1. If it's on a shelf, remove it.
2. If it's in a container, take it out.
3. If it has wheels roll it.
4. If things fit in it, put things in it.
5. If it looks like a house, find something to crawl through the window. Not enough things enter through windows.
6. If it looks like food, bite it. Even fake food needs to be chewed on, lest it feels inferior to the real thing.
7. Finally, organize by fun factor, and imaginary rank in toy army and place neatly in rows.


She seemed to get the idea, but when I looked up to check for understanding, the lady had switched places with the other lady. Naturally, I had to start all over again. Finally Dadda said it was time to leave. I said the "potty" word so that I could explore the bathroom, and I found a climbing table with wipeys and such, but Dadda and one of the ladies said, no climbing. Then we left. On the way to the car I fell in the grass and learned that sometimes the ground is a crayon for pants! In the car, Dadda played with his phone and I told him to drive, because that's what you're supposed to do in the car.


Once again, home did not appear to be our destination and so I noticed a pwayspace, but Dadda said no. So I was forced to reason with him through whines and repetition. Finally Dadda calmed me down by explaining our destination did, in fact, include a pway area. That's what he said last time as well so I trusted him. . .this time. Sure enough we arrived at a pwayground, inside a place that served chicken and fwies. I went to play, but Dadda said we needed to get food first. Talk about misplaced priorities! I think if Dadda would play before and after eating, as opposed to. . .well never, then maybe he wouldn't be so tired all the time.


After I declared myself the unquestionable ruler of the pwayspace I came down for some victory chicken, fwies and milk. Afterwards, I tended to my subjects and although I heard Dadda proclaim our time for departure, I simply explained to him that subjects to not give orders to their monarch, to which he caught me at the bottom of my royal twisty slide and bade me step down from my throne. You could tell by the screams and uninterrupted playing of my faithful subjects that I would be missed. I expect a statue erected in my honor before next I return to the land of the Burger King.

Return of the King

After lunch we went to the food tasting store. Dadda bought my weekly supply of boxed milk, and pouched fruit and I tasted applesauce, fruit chews, barbecue chicken, applesauce, fruit leather, and a mango fruit chew. 

Food tasting store and purveyor of precious potables.

Then after a brief stop at some military place where Dadda exchanged a bag of clothing for a piece of paper, we went home for a mid-afternoon pre-nap / post-outing milk and applesauce followed by the most dreadful of activities, a nap.

Military garbage receipt exchange. Not pictured, man with receipt.

Later that evening Dadda and Mamma discussed the results of my playtime in the portable. Apparently I have what is called a speech delay. Heh, I could've told you that, this blog was written almost a year ago!


Today I am delayed, never late, nor am I early. I arrive precisely when I mean to.