What Are You Doing?
Ronan has started asking us what we are doing. Again and again and again. Ad infinitum. As in:
Ronan: What are you doing, Dad?
Dad: I’m fixing your lunch.
Ronan: (Immediately.) What are you doing, Dad?
Dad: I’m spreading peanut butter on bread.
Ronan: (Immediately.) What are you doing, Dad?
Dad: I’m spreading strawberry jam on the peanut butter.
Ronan: (Immediately.) What are you doing, Dad?
Dad: I’m pouring you milk.
Ronan: (Immediately.) What are you doing, Dad?
Dad: I’m washing your hands.
Ronan: WHHHHAAATTTTT AAAAAAARRREEEEEE YYYYYYOOOOOUUUUU DDDDDOOOOOOIIIIIIIINNNNGGGG?????????????
Yes, he actually says it like that. Loud and stretched out; not yelling, but kind of because it’s fun, apparently. Almost all day long, he wants to know what we are doing. Every five seconds until he ends up practically yodeling.
I would imagine that even the most patient parent (which my wife will readily tell you, I am not) would go crazy with all the questions. But it’s actually kind of fun. When we get bored of the questions, we just ask right back.
Ronan: What are you doing, Mom?
Terry: I’m sorting the laundry.
Ronan: (Immediately.) What are you doing, Mom?
Terry: I’m sorting the laundry.
Ronan: (Immediately.) What are you doing, Mom?
Terry: WHHHHAAATTTTT AAAAAAARRREEEEEE YYYYYYOOOOOUUUUU DDDDDOOOOOOIIIIIIIINNNNGGGG?????????????
Dad: WHHHHAAATTTTT AAAAAAARRREEEEEE YYYYYYOOOOOUUUUU DDDDDOOOOOOIIIIIIIINNNNGGGG?????????????
Mom and Dad together: WHHHHAAATTTTT AAAAAAARRREEEEEE YYYYYYOOOOOUUUUU DDDDDOOOOOOIIIIIIIINNNNGGGG?????????????
Pause.
Terry: Well, What are you doing?
(Ronan just stands there, looking happy or confused, or both.)
I have no idea where this behavior came from. I’m sure baby books would tell you that this is normal baby behavior as they realize and process their surroundings. But those fuckers don’t have to spend endless hours answering the same question over and over again. They just roll in the money they made from writing baby books.
Last Year in Marienbad is considered by some critics to be brilliant. Others consider it among the worst films ever made. I’ve never seen it, but the script excerpts I’ve read make me think of it often as I narrate my life.
Perhaps, to demonstrate my madness, we’ll do a Garfield Minus Garfield and delete Ronan’s repetitive question:
Dad: I’m fixing your lunch.
Dad: I’m spreading peanut butter on bread.
Dad: I’m spreading strawberry jam on the peanut butter.
Dad: I’m pouring you milk.
Dad: I’m washing your hands.
See? Any sane person would recognize that narrating your everyday life is a sign of psychosis. Now, picture being with me (or Terry) for hours on end, just listening to us narrate the overly mundane activities of our household.
Clearly, Ronan’s screaming of the question is a reaction to his parents walking around the house, babbling to themselves. He’s just asking us “What are you doing?” to keep up the pretense that we’re sane.