B: Na, eta amar Ma. (No, this is my mother.)
Me: Ami tomar Ma! (I'm your mother, you nitwit!)
B: Ami tomar Ma na. (I'm your mother, not.)
Me: No, you are not my mother!
At which point I took refuge in the bedroom. He seems to have mastered the fine art of confounding the Sue by speaking in irrelevancies. Beq probably trained him in Assam.
This morning he was trying to explain to himself (and me) that certain toys would be his when he grew up (which he would, in the very next breath). That led to a discussion that ended with
- Bhabs growing up to become Babu (I love the elasticity of 3 year-old thought)
- Me growing up to become Babu
- Baba (Vicky) growing up to become Diddi (my mother!)
Baba declined comment on the matter.