We have this obsession in our house. We cannot speak his name because just the mere mention of his name brings on confusion and delay across the land.
He Who Shall Not Be Named has taken over. Elliot will come home and stare at the blank TV screen saying His name over and over. Pointing. Shrieking. Throwing himself on the ground. Sacrificing his other toys at the altar of Cheeky British Tank Engines. It’s insanity.
I am wondering why little guys love Him so much. It is the most boring show ever. And those engines are SO STUPID. If I was riding in a train that could talk and make decisions, I would have higher expectations. Couldn’t they have hired engines with college degrees or something?
Elliot knows all the names of His friends. He dances to His songs. He is practically speaking in a British accent. It’s so bizarre.
Often throughout our house can be heard shrieks of “MAMA?! MAMA?!” You would think that he would be calling on the name of the woman who carried him in her womb. Sorry, friends. Elliot can’t really make the “T” or the “S” sound. So it comes out… “Mama”. BOO. I’ve often been caught thinking that my son is joyfully calling my name at the top of his lungs. Then I realize he is holding that blue toy train again and pointing to the blank TV screen.
He Who Must Not Be Named: 1
Oh… and more evidence.