Burlingame, California
Holiday greetings all, Cooper here.
Last year you heard from Dev, now it’s my turn. In the past year, I have developed some striking new abilities. First, I too can now type. I should note that my typing ability pales in comparison to my command of the spoken word. My vocabulary now includes such important terms as “baby” to indicate television shows that I like, “squirrel” (pronounced and spelled “qrl”), “daddy” a meta-term ostensibly covering both parents, “Bonjia” a simpler and more cheerful Portuguese way of saying “Good morning,” and “ball” which seems to be a good catch-all term for most other things. Recently I have also acquired the ability to shake my head violently to indicate “no.” My parents nurtured this skill, both when they try to feed me unwelcome food and/or do that awful nose-wiping thing. I don’t actually say “no” because then I’d be on the hook to respond to it. My otherwise brilliant brother didn’t anticipate this adult deduction. This is why I recommend the “selective fast-follower strategy” to all in my cohort.
Devon is my best friend. He has a short, make that microscopic, attention span. Like Dad, his favorite toy is a remote, or really anything with buttons (that pretty much goes for me, too). Like Mom, his next favorite toy is a computer keyboard. We both enjoy cell phones. It is remarkable how many calls we get.
Despite some similarities (which cause strangers to occasionally get us mixed up), we have striking differences. My extended vocabulary, illustrated above, is one. A second is physical motivation. Indeed, Devon only recently convinced me that it was worth the effort to walk without someone holding your hand. However, I should note that my previous strategy of demanding assistance while walking was in many regards pure genius because it delivered a 1) reduced fall rate and 2) built-in strolling companion. Devon argued the downsides. For example, on average, you tend to go the places where the hand-holder wants to go, rather than where you want to go. Additionally, as walking is really a form of reconnaissance, all the discoveries you make in the presence of the hand-holder instantaneously become the property of the other side. Regardless, I maintained my strategy for an extra six months.
For our 1-year birthday, Mom and Dad threw us five small birthday parties (one of which involved cocktails and just their friends; so I hesitate to count that). They also decided to give us the benefit of improved aerodynamics. By which, of course, I mean they shaved our heads. Bald. Skin-head. Cue-ball. There is some debate about the rationale underlying this decision but Tata (Fatima – our best pal) says that in Brazil, hair grows back thicker when heads are shaved. Apparently this only applies to Equatorial areas near the Amazon. Because it didn’t work for us.
But back to Devon. He’s great to have around, particularly when he’s not biting me. While we both often want to play with the same toy, he has been encouraged to share and often does so without prompting. I think that’s just crazy. If you have something you want, why give it away? When I am told to, “Share, Cooper” – all I hear is: “You found something cool. Your brother knows this, so he wants it. Why don’t you give it to him now?” How screwed up is that?
Lest I give you the wrong impression, Devon is no mute. He knows what he’s saying. I know what he’s saying. It’s just beyond the understanding of adults. Devon actually speaks in complete sentences, asks questions, responds thoughtfully to inquiries and gives audible updates on his activities and discoveries. Mom and Dad would be embarrassed if they knew how clueless they sound when they say: “Yes, Devon, Daddy’s going to work. Say bye-bye!” in response to his statement: “Hey Dad, ponder this deal: I’ll give you and the rest of Dolby management some insights to punch up your global marketing strategy; you just need to let me drive you to work.”
However the good news is that in general we are starting to understand each other. Well, Mom and Dad have room for improvement in their understanding of what we are saying to them, but we totally get what Mom and Dad are saying to us. Indeed, we have begun to compile our own simple, easy-to-use Parent/Child dictionary:
What Mom and Dad say: What we hear:
Come here please. Flee! Flee quickly! Hide if possible!
Tata’s here! Great news! Better food is imminent.
No! You found the most interesting thing in the room!
Unfortunately, dictionary-creation is going slowly because they keep taking the pens away from us. Mom continues to enjoy her work at Stanford and never seems to tire of banging on computer keyboards. Our Dad is Zen-like in his tolerance of all the teasing he gets for setting up awesome audio/video systems that regularly stump civilians but which also recently baffled the TV repairman (when he couldn’t figure out how to turn on the TV to see what was wrong with it). When pressed by techno-inferiors, Dad claims such a system is required for his job at Dolby. We are anxious to help, but have not yet been enlisted.
We are thankful for much – our loving family including the best grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins ever, wonderful friends including a fabulous nanny and pal, Fatima. We’re young, but we know we are truly blessed.Love, Cooper (penning also for Devon)