Getting What You Want

            How do you ask for something?

            I usually pose my desire as a question.

            “Greg, do you want Chipotle’s for dinner?”

            “Do you?”

            “Yes.”

            “Fine with me.”

            My four young grandchildren each have their own special way of communicating.

            Eliana is 17 months.  She babbles her request, the listener guesses, and she lets them know if they’re right or wrong.

            “Glib onk gay ont duh onnah!”

            “Pretzle?  Do you want a pretzle?”

            Shaking her head and waving her palm back and forth, “No, no, no.”

            “Do you want to go outside?”

            Nodding and smiling, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

            Jackson, 24 months, says words, but only when he thinks it’s necessary.

            “Jackson, catch the ball.  Ball.  Can you say ball?”

            He takes the ball, pauses a minute looking at you, then walks away.

            “Here’s your sippy cup.  Drink.  Can you say drink?”

            Jackson takes the cup and drinks.

            Mommy sits on the couch eating a banana.  She hands the peel to Jackson and says, “Jackson, put this in the trash for mommy.”

            Jackson takes the peel, studies mommy for a second, then says, "Trash."

            Landon is 25 months old.  He has a unique way of telling you what he wants.

            He is hungry, so he pulls open the freezer drawer and gets out a packaged sausage biscuit.  He walks over to mom, tilts his head up, and holds the sausage next to his face, smiling.

            He lifts his brows and begins nodding.  “Mmmmmm.”

            “No, Landon.  You’re not having a frozen biscuit.”

            Undeterred he continues, “Mmmmmmm.”

            Everett is five months old.  He is happy most of the time.  In fact, I’ve never seen him unhappy. 

           

            “Hi sweetie.”

            His face opens into a smile, and he gurgles and laughs.

            You only know he wants something if he doesn’t sustain the gurgling and laughing.  I don’t know whether it’s his very young age, or his happy demeanor, but everyone around him strives to give him everything they can to keep his world sweet and pleasant.

            I suspect the Everetts of the world get the most of what they want.