Last night, while Genevieve sat in the high chair and banged like a gonzo journalist on her "laptop," Julia and I engaged in a protracted session of her favorite word game, "What Sounds Like." It's pretty easy to play, really. She says, "What sounds like cat?" You say, "Bat." She might say, "What sounds like bat?" (the easy, early form of the game) or she might say, "What sounds like car?" (the harder, newer form). You respond, she asks, et cetera et cetera until the language-processing parts of your brain start smoldering.
This time, though, she threw something new into the game: nonsense. "What sounds like schmick?" she'd ask, putting a few more black beans on her fork. "Nick sounds like schmick," I'd say. This was harder because the adult mind - or at least mine - automatically runs towards rhymes that would be inappropriate to add to the game or her vocabulary. "What rhymes with crit?" (No, don't say the vulgar word for breast/the kind of small bird!) "What rhymes with sigger?" (Is she trying to peel back my white privilege, layer by layer?) "What rhymes with diamond?" (Errr...)
At least she punctuated this mentally taxing game with a few crazy sounds-likes of her own. "What sounds like banana thief [a character in a Richard Scarry book]?" As I groan out, "Uhh, banana thief sounds like cabana..." she cuts me off: "Thief sounds like teef [teeth]! Who is the teef thief?"